


There Is No Man, However Wise

by enigmaticblue



Series: The Many Lives of Sirius Black [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Sirius Black Lives, Sirius Black Raises Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:33:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 87,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24362872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: It’s 1988, Sirius has Harry, and possession is nine-tenths of the law.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Series: The Many Lives of Sirius Black [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1692316
Comments: 263
Kudos: 1080
Collections: Real Good Shit, Works worth reading a million times over, Works worth reading again and again





	1. In Which Sirius Attempts To Make A Home

**Author's Note:**

> A few things before we get started:
> 
> 1\. This is 1988, but the next fic is definitely going to be 1994, for those who asked for that instead.
> 
> 2\. This fic is complete in 6 parts. I'm posting one part per week on Sundays to make things easier on myself. You can subscribe and read it all at once, or read one part per week. I won't judge. (Sorry, miscalculated the number of chapters. There are six.)
> 
> 3\. This is about three parts domestic fluff to one part intrigue. You have been warned.
> 
> 4\. I have tried not to bash anybody. That being said, Dumbledore doesn't come off particularly well in this. If you're not cool with that, time to bail is now.
> 
> 5\. You should consider this story complete, but I won't promise that there will never be more. If you know me at all, this will not surprise you.

_There is no man… however wise, who has not at some period of his youth said things, or lived in a way the consciousness of which is so unpleasant to him in later life that he would gladly, if he could, expunge it from his memory. And yet he ought not entirely to regret it, because he cannot be certain that he has indeed become a wise man—so far as it is possible for any of us to be wise—unless he has passed through all the fatuous or unwholesome incarnations by which that ultimate stage must be preceded…We are not provided with wisdom, we must discover it for ourselves, after a journey through the wilderness which no one else can take for us, an effort which no one can spare us, for our wisdom is the point of view from which we come at last to regard the world.”_ ~Marcel Proust

**Part the First: In Which Sirius Attempts to Make a Home**

“I want to stay here forever,” Harry announces.

Sirius glances down at him, reining in his surprise with some difficulty. He hadn’t expected to be spat out at the exact time he took his hand off the doorknob. He’d thought there would be events to rehash, and he’d braced himself to be back in Azkaban again.

Instead, he’s standing in the yard of their— _their_ —farmhouse, with Harry beside him, and it’s—

Well, he’s overwhelmed for a moment. He’s made his choice, and there’s no going back, and his head is spinning. “Sirius? Are you okay?” Harry asks.

Sirius puts a hand on Harry’s shoulder, partly to ground himself. “I’m just glad to have you here with me. I told you the place needed a lot of work, didn’t I?”

Harry laughs, looking delighted. “You said I could have a room of my own!”

“We’ll have to clean it first,” Sirius cautions. “And it’s late. What do you say we figure out a place to sleep and then start fresh in the morning?”

“Okay!” Harry says enthusiastically. Sirius thinks he should be exhausted, but Harry shows no signs of flagging, maybe due to his nap on the ferry.

Sirius pats him on the shoulder. “Let’s see if we can find something to sleep on.”

Harry doesn’t seem to mind helping to drag down a couple of mattresses from the bedrooms to the living room, and he’s fascinated by the use of a banishing charm to get rid of the worst of the dust.

“We’ll have to take a look around tomorrow, and see if we can find some clothes for you,” Sirius says absently, making a mental list of everything they’ll need to do. “And I might have to look for a book on household charms, because I’m a bit rusty.”

Harry glances up at him. “Will I be able to do magic?”

Sirius hesitates. Even children from the old wizarding families don’t get a wand until they’re ready to start school, but most have learned or are familiar with basic skills. And there’s no reason not to _try_ teaching Harry a few spells.

“I don’t know why not. Once I get the wards shored up, you can practice as much as you like,” Sirius says slowly, focusing on getting the bedding clean. The old quilts are faded and worn, but still usable. “The trace won’t work here, so no one will be any the wiser.”

An eight-year-old won’t have much control, but Harry doesn’t need to know that right now.

Sirius doesn’t notice the silence right at first, but then he glances down to see Harry’s furrowed brow. “What’s up, pup?”

Harry shrugs and glances down at the floor.

“You don’t have to be shy,” Sirius encourages him. “If there’s something you don’t understand, just ask.”

Harry shakes his head, dark fair falling in his eyes.

Sirius runs through what he just said and sighs. “The trace is the way that the British Ministry of Magic controls underage wizards, who generally aren’t allowed to do magic outside of school. But there’s no way for them to tell if you’re doing magic here.”

Sirius understands the purpose of the trace—to protect the Statute of Secrecy—but he also thinks it puts the Muggle-borns and half-bloods at a disadvantage. Merlin knows that he and James had practiced magic plenty during the summers, and without any negative consequences.

“So, I won’t get in trouble if I do magic?” Harry asks anxiously. “Even if I do it wrong?”

“If you blow something up, I’ll repair it,” Sirius replies. “And if it can’t be repaired, it should probably be thrown out anyway.”

Harry stares at him. “Really?”

“Sure,” Sirius says. “All right, I think it’s clean enough to sleep on. You okay?”

Harry nods. “What, um, what are wards?”

“Magical protections cast over an area, like a house,” Sirius replies, and ruffles Harry’s hair. “I’ll teach you everything I know.”

“Really?” Harry asks.

“Anything you want,” Sirius promises. “But let’s get some sleep, okay?”

Harry nods, giving the nest of mattresses and quilts a speculative look. Sirius has heard about Harry’s cupboard under the stairs, and he hopes that this make-shift bed will be comfortable for the night. “Okay.”

“Sure you’re okay?” Sirius asks, wondering if Harry is scared, now that he’s facing the prospect of a night in a strange place with someone he doesn’t really know.

Harry looks around. “I think so. Should I brush my teeth?”

Sirius grimaces. “I don’t have anything for that. Can I cast a teeth cleaning spell on you?”

“Sure?” Harry asks, his green eyes widening.

Sirius grins. “Won’t hurt a bit. You won’t even feel it.”

Harry shrugs. “Okay.”

Sirius casts the charm on himself first, just to show that it doesn’t hurt—and to make sure he still remembers the right one—and then on Harry.

Bonus, their teeth don’t fall out, so Sirius feels like he’s doing pretty well.

Harry crawls under the covers, still in his clothes, and Sirius does the same.

He hears Harry tossing and turning, and even though Sirius is exhausted, he stays awake until Harry stills.

They’ll have to go down to the village tomorrow for food, and Harry will need new clothes. Sirius is going to need new clothes as well, so it’s a good thing he managed to get the money from Grimmauld Place as well.

He falls asleep thinking of all the things they need to do, and finds he’s looking forward to even the most mundane tasks, now that he has Harry.

~~~~~

Sirius is awake with the rising sun the next morning, the light streaming in through the dirty, uncovered windows. He makes a mental note to invest in curtains at some point.

The wallpaper in the sitting room is faded and starting to peel, and the painted trim is scuffed, but the wood floor is in good shape, and someone put dust covers on the furniture before closing up the house.

There’s no food here, though, so they’ll have to go down to the village, but he needs to do something about their clothes first.

He grimaces. He really wishes he’d put a little more effort into learning household spells, because he’s going to need them. At least his experience with cleaning spells is relatively recent.

Sirius gets up quietly and starts to poke around. He knows there are some spare clothes about his size, and he vaguely remembers that he and Remus found children’s clothing in one of the bedrooms. They’d thrown them out the first time around because they were far too small for Harry at that time.

Right now, though, there might be something that fits better than what he’s currently wearing.

Sirius glances back at Harry, and sees only a tuft of dark hair sticking out of the blankets, and he figures it’s safe enough to leave him alone.

There’s an old trunk in one of the bedrooms that they’d cleared out for Harry’s use, and that’s where Sirius is headed. When he starts digging through it again, he finds a few pairs of trousers that might fit, and several shirts. The Blacks have always been conservative, including in their clothing choices, so nothing is terribly out of style.

More formal than Harry needs, but it won’t raise too many eyebrows, not like the old cast-offs he’s currently wearing.

Sirius hears a thin voice call out, and he grabs an armful of clothing and charges down the stairs, worry clawing at him.

Harry is fine, of course, sitting up in his nest of blankets, but he has a bit of a panicked expression on his face, and no wonder. No matter how awful the Dursleys might have been to him, that was still home. Waking up alone, and in a strange place? Sirius should have stayed put.

Harry immediately looks relieved when he sees Sirius. “Oh, it’s real.”

“Sure, it’s real,” Sirius says lightly. “I was looking for some clothes for you. Do you want to get cleaned up? We’ll have to go down to the village if we want breakfast.”

Harry scratches the back of his neck. “Do I have to?”

Sirius wonders if he’s going to have to insist on things like basic hygiene. “I think it’s a good idea. Yesterday was a very big day.”

“Okay,” Harry says slowly. “It’s just that Aunt Petunia says it’s a waste of water to shower more than every couple of days.”

Sirius has a feeling that he’s going to get very tired of hearing anything beginning with, “Aunt Petunia said” or “Uncle Vernon said.”

“Do you like taking showers?” Sirius asks instead, deciding to focus on what makes Harry happy.

Harry shrugs. “Yes, but—”

“It’s my house, and my rules, and I’ve had to go a long time without a shower in the past, and I don’t much care for it,” Sirius says cheerfully. “I say we have one whenever we feel we need one. So, would you like to take a shower and see if any of these clothes fit?”

“Okay,” Harry says quickly, and Sirius shows him to the bathroom where he’d found the toiletries.

“Use whatever you’d like,” he says, and blows out a breath once the door is closed. Sirius has a feeling that there are going to be plenty of those landmines in the future, but he thinks he handled that one fairly well.

When Harry emerges a relatively short time later, he’s wearing trousers and a short-sleeved shirt, which fit him far better than his cousin’s old clothes.

“All right, Harry?” Sirius asks.

Harry looks down at himself. “I look like I’m wearing a school uniform.”

Sirius grimaces. “True.” He gives it some thought and then asks, “Would you prefer shorts?”

Harry shrugs. “I guess?”

“Because I can make them into shorts, but I’d rather not take any chances while you’re wearing them.”

Harry hesitates, then retreats inside the bathroom and hands his trousers out through the crack in the door.

Sirius uses a cutting hex to slice off the bottoms of the legs, and when Harry reemerges, he’s wearing a slightly frayed pair of shorts, and with the shirt untucked, he looks much less formal.

“Better?”

“Much,” Harry says firmly.

“Give me a moment to clean up, and then we can go get breakfast, among other things,” Sirius promises.

He takes a very short shower, pulls his hair back, and pulls on the clothing he liberated from Grimmauld Place. It’s not as fresh as he’d like, but a quick _scourgify_ ensures he’s at least presentable. They need food right now, and probably some other things, and Sirius doesn’t want to take the time to search out other clothing.

Sirius grabs the Muggle money, since he knows exactly where it is, and Harry puts on his grubby old trainers, and then they stroll down to the village.

He’s not sure what to say, and Harry seems focused on the countryside, which might be a bit different for someone who grew up in a place like Little Whinging. The road itself is a dirt track, rarely traveled by Muggle vehicles, lined on either side by trees and native grasses and lavender. The sky is a cloudless blue, and the sun is warm, but not too hot.

Sirius couldn’t have asked for better weather, considering that it’s late June. Plus, Harry looks happy and relaxed, and that’s the important thing.

“How long have you lived here?” Harry asks after a little while.

“I visited a few times in the summers when my grandmother was still alive, but I’ve never lived here,” Sirius replies, glancing down at him. “I suppose we’ll live here for as long as it makes sense.”

“I like it,” Harry says. “It’s really pretty.”

“I’m glad,” Sirius replies, putting an arm around Harry’s shoulders, pleased when Harry doesn’t try to shrug him off. “The Blacks have other properties where we could stay, but this place is probably the safest because no one will think to look for us here.”

“No one will be looking for me,” Harry says in a matter-of-fact tone of voice. “At least not until Aunt Petunia wants her garden weeded again.”

Sirius wonders if that’s true, and if the Muggles will report Harry missing immediately. If they do, it’s likely only a matter of time before Sirius will have to decide how best to fend off any attempts to send Harry back to his relatives. On the other hand, the Dursleys appeared to desire nothing more than to pretend Harry didn’t exist. It’s possible that they’ll assume he ran away and decide not to report him to the Muggle authorities.

The real question is when Dumbledore will notice. Sirius doesn’t doubt that he has someone keeping an eye on Harry, but how closely could they be watching when they didn’t notice how Harry was being treated?

Sirius wonders if Remus at least will guess at what he planned to do and warn someone in the Order, but even if he does, he doesn’t know about the farmhouse.

No, that had been another life, another timeline. For now, it’s just him and Harry. Sirius wouldn’t mind keeping it that way for as long as possible.

The village is small, with a mixed population. Sirius knows there were a few wizarding families in the area who liked to spend holidays in the French countryside, although most of the population are small farmers with orchards and other crops. The narrow, cobble-stone streets and stone buildings suggest that the village has been here for hundreds of years.

The first stop they make is the bakery, and Sirius watches Harry’s eyes go wide at the array of breads and pastries. Sirius orders two _pain au chocolat_ in French, as well as a sturdy loaf of bread that will do for sandwiches and toast.

Harry glances up at him uncertainly when Sirius hands over one of the pastries. “Is this all for me?”

“Unless you can’t finish it,” Sirius replies. “I can assure you that I’ll be eating the second one.”

They sit outside at one of the two tiny tables, and Sirius watches with amusement as Harry alternates between tiny nibbles and huge bites, clearly vacillating between wanting to gobble it up and enjoy every morsel.

“We can come back and try the other pastries a different day,” Sirius offers. “The only day they’re closed is on Mondays.”

“Really?” Harry asks.

Sirius shrugs. “At least if we don’t feel like cooking. It depends on what we want to do. Have you learned any French in primary?”

Harry shrugs and licks a bit of chocolate off his fingers. “A little bit. It didn’t seem all that useful.”

Sirius raises his eyebrows as he finishes his own pastry, and Harry giggles, realizing what he’s said. “More useful than I thought it would be,” Harry admits. “But I don’t remember much.”

“We’ll work on it,” Sirius promises.

Harry should be able to speak the language, considering that he’s the Black heir, and there are a number of Black holdings in France. Primary school in the village is out, and Sirius has no idea where to even begin on an education programme at home, but he has some time to figure that out.

If Harry is as bright as his parents, he’ll need and want a challenge, and it will be up to Sirius to make sure he gets one, and that he’s well-equipped for whatever life happens to throw at them.

“There isn’t much knowledge that isn’t useful, at least at some point,” Sirius says slowly. “And the thing about life is that you don’t know when it’s going to be useful.”

Harry seems to think about that for a moment. “Like French?”

“Exactly like French,” Sirius replies.

“It’s just…” Harry trails off.

“I won’t get mad, pup,” Sirius promises. “Whatever you say.”

“It’s just Dudley would always get mad if I got better marks than him, and then…” Harry shifts uncomfortably.

Sirius promised not to get angry, and he swallows down the first retort that comes to mind. “I just want you to do your best,” he says firmly. “And to remember that knowing things can end up helping you, and sometimes others. Now, what do you say we get some shopping done?”

Harry shrugs. “Sure, I guess.”

Sirius suspects that no one has ever taken Harry shopping, just based on what he had been wearing at the Muggles’ house, and there’s a small wizarding store in the village that has most of the basics, and can send off for the rest.

In another life, Sirius mostly used the shop for sending owls, and while he’d been friendly with the proprietor, Sirius had been too focused on getting Remus there, and clearing his name, and getting hold of Harry. Without Remus as a go-between, Sirius is going to need some assistance.

The proprietor glances up when they enter. “And what can I for you gentlemen?” he asks in French.

Sirius replies in the same language. “Some new clothing for myself and my godson, preferably from the back.”

The man raises his eyebrows. He’s probably a good two decades older than Sirius, with dark hair liberally streaked with gray and eyes the color of faded denim, deep set in a craggy face. “Are you a Black, then? You have the look of one.”

“I am,” Sirius says. “I haven’t claimed my place as head of house yet, but I will.”

“You’d have to be, as there aren’t many Blacks left,” he replies, and he fixes Sirius with a long, piercing look before nodding, apparently satisfied with whatever he’s seen. “My name is Martin, and I remember you. Sirius, yes? Your grandmother was a formidable woman.”

“That she was,” Sirius replies. “I miss her a great deal.” He doesn’t remember Martin except vaguely, in the same way he remembered this store, and what it sold.

“It will be good to see people in the old house again,” Martin says in English. “Well, come on back. We’ll get you both taken care of.”

Martin leads them to the back of the shop, and motions to the stool sitting at the center of the room. “Hop up there, young man.”

Harry glances at Sirius uncertainly, and Sirius nods. “Don’t worry, Harry. It won’t hurt a bit.”

Harry shrugs and steps up.

“Arms out!” Martin calls, and when Harry holds his arms out, the tape measure starts whipping around him.

Harry’s eyes go wide, and Martin asks, “What exactly are we after here? The full kit?”

“Casual clothing to get him through every day, and then a full set of dress robes, and everything necessary for that,” Sirius instructs. “With some room to grow.”

Martin smirks at him. “I’ll include that at no cost. I’ve never met a Black yet who could manage a household charm.”

“Expansion charms aren’t that hard to trigger,” Sirius mutters, but Martin is not wrong. He’s going to have to learn, though. The other option is to hire someone, and he doesn’t want anybody around that he doesn’t already trust implicitly.

“What kind of clothes again?” Harry asks.

“Clothes that fit,” Sirius replies firmly. “But nothing too wild, I promise. Right, Martin?”

“Are we outfitting the Black heir, or your godson?” Martin asks.

“My godson for right now, except for the dress robes,” Sirius replies. “Standard kit for me.”

Martin nods. “Of course, you’ll be representing the Black name.”

The tape measure whips around Sirius as well while Harry watches, and Sirius says, “If you don’t mind, we’ll get a couple outfits today, and then pay for the rest after we’ve had a chance to visit Gringotts.”

Martin shrugs. “I thought you might, based on the news.”

“Anything we need to worry about?” Sirius asks.

“I don’t see why the British Aurors need to know anything about our business,” Martin replies, switching to French. “Or yours. Your grandmother’s family has been a fixture here for generations.” He switches to English. “And you and your godson are quite welcome.”

Harry flushes a bit. “ _Merci_.”

“Not a bad accent, young man,” Martin praises him, even though Harry has only said one word of French. It’s a sales technique, but Harry’s chest puffs out, and Sirius is grateful.

Any encouragement directed at Harry is appreciated.

Sirius pays for two sets of clothing, and Martin promises that his niece will drop them off the following day, with Sirius to pay for the rest once he’s able to visit Gringotts. From there, he and Harry stop at the small market for meat, fruit, and vegetables. Sirius doesn’t pick up anything that will be too complicated to cook—eggs, bacon, a chicken that he thinks he can figure out how to roast.

He hopes, anyway.

Sirius thinks that the condition of the house seems a little more daunting this time, maybe because Remus isn’t around to help. Remus never had the luxury of house elves, and he knows his way around a cleaning spell.

Harry’s looking around the kitchen with a determined expression that Sirius remembers seeing on James’ face. “Well, it needs a bit of cleaning.”

“You could say that,” Sirius replies. “Let’s put our things away, and then we can start on the bedrooms so we’ll have a place to sleep tonight other than the floor.”

Harry nods. “I know how to clean loads of things. I did it all the time for Aunt Petunia.”

“Good man,” Sirius replies. “I’m going to need the help, if you don’t mind.”

Harry grins up at him. “It’s our house, isn’t it?”

“It’s ours, for sure,” Sirius says, and he thinks that might make all the difference in the world.

The first stop, after putting the groceries away, is the office and the spare wands. “There are those that say the wand chooses the wizard,” Sirius says. “And that’s true. When a wizard first begins school, it’s traditional for him to get his own wand, one that’s uniquely suited to his magic. But it’s also not unusual for a wizard or witch to carry a family member’s wand.”

Harry is listening with a frown of concentration. “Do you have my parents’ wands?”

Sirius grimaces. “No, Harry. I’m not sure where they are, or if they survived. I’m sorry for that.”

“It’s not your fault, though,” Harry argues.

It’s a little bit Sirius’ fault, he thinks, because he could have stopped and looked for James’ and Lily’s wands the night Voldemort murdered them. He just hadn’t thought of it.

“I could have done more to safeguard them,” Sirius admits. “But I was more interested in catching the traitor at the time. Never mind. Some of the Black family have left wands here, so we’ll see if any of them work for you.”

Children of pure blood families are around magic and wands from birth, and most get a toy wand before they can walk. They start Hogwarts already knowing the basic movements, which puts the Muggle-born students at an immediate disadvantage, something that Harry really can’t afford.

Harry looks a bit apprehensive, but he nods. “Okay.”

Sirius hands him the first wand, the one he knows worked for him in the past. “Give it a swish.”

Harry waves the wand, and a few sparks fly out. “Is that’s what’s supposed to happen?”

“It means that the wand will probably work for you,” Sirius replies. “Technically, you’re not supposed to use one until you go to school, but my grandmother made sure I knew a few basics when I was your age.”

“I won’t get in trouble?” Harry asks.

“Not here, and not when you’re around other wizards,” Sirius tells him. “You’ll need to be careful around Muggles, though. Magic is a secret.”

“Got it,” Harry replies with a nod. “Because they wouldn’t understand.”

“Exactly,” Sirius says. “Now, to the hard work.”

Sirius hasn’t spent a lot of time around children other than Harry—and to a lesser extent, Harry’s friends when they were all staying at Grimmauld Place. Still, he thinks that Harry might be more focused than most children his age, because he joins in cleaning with a will, and doesn’t appear to get bored.

They stop for lunch, and Sirius makes bacon sandwiches. He makes enough so that Harry can eat as many as he likes. Sirius is hungry enough to eat two, and when he starts in on the second one, Harry folds a piece of bread over a few more slices of bacon.

By the end of the day, two of the bedrooms upstairs have been cleaned, they’ve aired out the bedding, and have started to clean the main level, including the kitchen.

“I think that’s enough work for today, don’t you?” Sirius asks, stretching the kinks out of his back. “You were a huge help today, Harry. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Harry flushes with pride. “I didn’t mind cleaning with you.”

“I’m not sure how long it will take to cook the chicken,” Sirius says dubiously.

“I don’t mind eggs,” Harry replies. “Or toast.”

Sirius thinks about it for a minute. “Do you like beans on toast?”

“I don’t know,” Harry admits. “Aunt Petunia doesn’t like beans.”

“Your Uncle Moony introduced me to it,” Sirius explains. “It’s cheap and easy, but if you don’t like it, we never have to eat it again.”

Harry digs in enthusiastically, though, and Sirius figures they might be eating a lot of the same foods he and Remus had when they’d been living together—minus the takeaway. There’s nowhere nearby for it.

“What do you normally do in the evening?” Sirius asks.

Harry shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess I usually go to bed.”

“You don’t watch TV or read or play games?” Sirius asks. As hard as they worked today, he expects Harry to fall asleep early, but it’s not even seven, and he wants Harry to be able to do _something_ fun before bed.

“Not really?” Harry says uncertainly. “Sometimes I watch TV, but the Dursleys never really wanted me around.”

“No sports?” Sirius presses.

Harry shrugs, his expression a little wry. “Not unless you count running away from Dudley’s friends.”

“Knowing how to run isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but I think we should order brooms when we’re in Paris,” Sirius says, adding it to his mental list of things they need. “I bought you your first broom, you know. Your mum wasn’t too pleased, but your dad thought it was great, and you took to it like a duck to water.”

Harry frowns. “A broom?”

“To fly,” Sirius replies with a grin. “Just wait, Harry, you’ll love it, I promise. But for tonight, let’s see if there’s anything in the study that interests us.”

Harry shrugs, apparently willing to go along with it.

The study is a cozy room at the back of the farmhouse, the gray paint nearly hidden by the tall bookshelves, stuffed full of books. There’s a dark blue couch and a couple of overstuffed chairs, as well as a scarred wooden desk and chair wedged into the corner. Sirius remembers it as being one of his favorite rooms in the house.

“Do you like to read?” Sirius asks, realizing that he doesn’t know nearly enough about his godson at this age.

Harry nods. “I guess so. It depends on the book.”

“It usually does,” Sirius agrees. “There are plenty of books on magic in there. Maybe one of them will interest you.”

Harry looks a little more interested at that. “I can read them?”

“You can read anything in the study, but if there’s anything you don’t understand, or if you have questions, and before you do _any_ spells, you have to talk to me first,” Sirius insists. “I won’t have many rules, but that’s one of them.”

“That seems fair,” Harry agrees cautiously.

“Good,” Sirius replies. “Have at it, Pronglet.”

Sirius has his own research to do. He needs to shore up the wards around the house, including setting up more stringent protections for Harry. There’s also the important matter of figuring out how best to get the Wolfsbane potion to Remus, whether that’s sending him the instructions, or finding someone who will brew it for them.

And then there’s the matter of contacting a solicitor; he hopes that Miriam is still willing to take on his case.

He glances up at Harry and finds him sitting cross-legged on the floor, a book in his lap. “What did you find, pup?”

“A book of household spells,” Harry says with a bit of a cheeky grin. “I think we’re going to need them.”

Sirius laughs and tosses him a roll of parchment. “Bookmark any of them that look interesting, and I’ll brush up tomorrow.”

“What are you doing?” Harry asks.

“I’m writing a letter to a friend,” Sirius replies, deciding that has to be his first course of action. Remus shouldn’t have to do without Wolfsbane any longer than necessary. If he’s efficient, he might be able to spend the next full moon in his right mind. “We’ll have to go down to the village tomorrow so I can send it.”

“Who’s your friend?”

“It’s actually your Uncle Moony,” Sirius replies. “He was a friend of your parents, too.”

“How come he isn’t here?” Harry’s question is innocent, but it strikes at Sirius’ heart.

Sirius takes a deep breath. “Because he spent a long time thinking I hurt people, Pronglet, and he hasn’t got used to the idea that I haven’t yet.”

“Does he want to see me?” Harry asks, and Sirius suddenly realizes just what it looks like, for Sirius to have come for him and Remus to have stayed away.

Sirius thinks hard about his response. He and Harry are still getting to know one another, and Harry’s a little young for the full story. Sirius isn’t quite sure how to explain all the reasons that Remus may have had for his decision, especially since he doesn’t want Remus and Harry to get off on the wrong foot.

He also has to explain why Dumbledore made the choices that _he_ did, in such a way that Harry won’t be entirely discouraged from attending Hogwarts, if that’s where he ends up going.

“It’s complicated,” Sirius begins.

Harry looks down at the book again, clearly deflated.

“That doesn’t mean I won’t explain,” Sirius quickly adds. “Just that it might be harder than I’d like, because it’s a long story, and there are a lot of layers to it. A bit like a trifle, that way.”

Harry giggles, which is what Sirius had been after.

He gets down on the floor with Harry. “Remember when I talked about what happened to your parents, and the bad man who killed them?”

Harry nods.

“Well, there was a wizard who opposed Voldemort,” Sirius says. “Albus Dumbledore. Did I tell you about him?”

“Not really?” Harry says uncertainly.

“Dumbledore is a great wizard,” Sirius begins. “But he’s not perfect, even though a lot of people think he is.”

Harry frowns. “What do you mean?”

“He could have made sure I had a trial, and he didn’t,” Sirius says. “Because he thought I was guilty.”

“But shouldn’t everybody get a trial? I thought that was a rule.” Harry’s expression suggests he’s getting upset on Sirius’ behalf.

“It is a rule, but things were different then,” Sirius replies. “And even good people didn’t always follow the rules.”

“Did you?” Harry asks.

“No, not always,” Sirius admits. “But I tried not to hurt anybody who wasn’t trying to kill me.”

“What does that have to do with your friend?”

Sirius isn’t sure how to explain this in a way that will make sense. “Dumbledore thought you’d be safer if you were living with Muggles, because there were still some bad people who followed the wizard who killed your parents. He told Moony that you’d be safer away from magical people.”

“And Moony believed him, but you didn’t?” Harry asks.

“Well, to be fair, I’d just spent 7 years in prison for something I didn’t do because people bollocksed things up,” Sirius replies. “And I’m your godfather. It’s my job to take care of you. That’s what your parents asked me to do.”

Harry nods. “So, Moony believed Dumbledore, but you knew he was wrong about some things, so you didn’t believe him.”

“I didn’t believe everything, no, Pronglet, and I knew you’d be safest with me.”

Harry seems to be thinking that over. “But Moony didn’t think I’d be safe with him?”

Lily had been the brightest witch of their age, and James had been clever as well. Sirius isn’t all that surprised at the deductive leap. “Moony is…he’s a werewolf, Harry.”

“Those exist?” Harry asks, sounding more excited than anything else.

“A werewolf is a wizard who is bitten by someone who has lycanthropy, which is what we call the sickness that makes a werewolf,” Sirius explains. “Remus was bitten when he was very young, younger than you are now. He really doesn’t remember being anything else, but there are a lot of people who hold it against him.”

“Is he dangerous?” Harry asks.

“Sometimes,” Sirius replies honestly. “Sometimes, he’s really dangerous. But I have a way to make him safe all the time. The problem is that he didn’t have a way to be safe before.”

Harry considers that for a long moment. “So, now he can come and stay with us?”

“I don’t know about that,” Sirius admits. “But I want to let him know that he can if he wants. Is that okay with you?”

Harry nods. “It’s okay if he wanted to keep me safe. He didn’t know the Dursleys were awful.”

“No, he didn’t,” Sirius agrees. “You finish your chapter, and I’ll finish my letter, and then I think we should both go to bed.”

~~~~~

The next day begins much the same way as the day before. They walk down to the village and get more pastries, and Sirius isn’t surprised when Harry opts for the _pain au chocolat_ again. Martin runs an unofficial owl post, and Sirius sends off two letters—one to Remus, and the other to the Paris branch of Gringotts, to request an appointment for the following day.

“I wasn’t expecting you to return so soon,” Martin says. “I’ll still send Ines this afternoon with your clothing.”

“I wasn’t expecting to return so soon either, but I realized that I had a couple of letters to send,” Sirius replies. “There was no reason to expect us.”

Harry makes an inquisitive noise.

“What’s that?” Martin asks.

“I just wondered why you use owls.”

“Owls are intelligent creatures, and they can find just about anybody, no matter where they are,” Sirius replies. “And, since I don’t know where Remus is right now, an owl is the only way to go.”

Harry nods. “That makes sense, I guess.”

“Your godson has not spent much time in the magical world,” Martin says in French.

Sirius shrugs. “We’re remedying that.” He switches back to English. “There’s no shame in asking questions, Harry.”

Martin smiles kindly. “How can you learn if you do not ask the questions?”

“We’re going to Gringotts tomorrow,” Sirius says. “If we’re back at a decent hour, I’ll drop the payment by then.”

“I am not concerned,” Martin replies. “Take care on your trip.”

Sirius nods. “Thank you.”

They head back to the house, where there’s still plenty to do. It will take time to get the entire place back into shape, and probably a few coats of paint. Sirius makes fried egg sandwiches for lunch, and they’re just finishing up when they hear a knock on the door.

“Stay here,” Sirius orders.

Harry appears slightly alarmed. “Is everything all right?”

“Of course, but I want to see who’s at the door,” Sirius replies.

A young woman stands there with a paper-wrapped parcel and a smile. “Are you Mr. Black?”

“I am,” Sirius replies, returning her smile. “You must be Ines. Come on in.”

“You seem to have done quite well,” Ines says in French, glancing around. “Uncle Martin seemed to think that you would have trouble with cleaning.”

“I _have_ cleaned things before,” Sirius replies. “My skills are rusty, but aren’t non-existent.”

Ines laughs lightly. “And your godson?”

“He’s better at cleaning than I am,” Sirius says easily as they enter the kitchen. “Ines, my godson, Harry.”

“ _Bonjour_ ,” Ines says. “It’s nice to meet you, Harry.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too,” Harry replies politely. “Would you like a tour?”

Ines smiles, clearly charmed. “I would love a tour, Harry.”

The house is in decent shape at this point, and Sirius knows that Harry wants to show off his hard work, and he should. Harry is clearly very proud of his bedroom, and Ines exclaims over it.

Sirius follows them around, mostly to see what Harry does, and he’s polite and very well spoken. He couldn’t be prouder if he tried.

“Well, I can give you some tips on painting if you like, and I know a spell for getting wallpaper down easily,” Ines offers. “But I don’t think you need much help, not with Harry here.”

Harry grins at her. “I want to see!”

“Well, I’ll show you how to take the wallpaper down,” Ines replies. “Where are we starting?”

Harry is interested in everything, and he mentions the chicken they’ve yet to roast.

Ines laughs, as though she knows she’s being played, but she sticks around long enough to walk Sirius through how to roast it. With the potatoes and carrots he bought, he and Harry make a better than average dinner out of it.

Sirius is beginning to think that they might be able to make a real go of it, that they can make a life here. He might not mess this up too badly after all.

But they still have to get through their trip to Gringotts tomorrow.

The next morning, Sirius gets Harry up and dressed in his new clothing, a pair of black trousers and a green button-down shirt that brings out his eyes. Sirius has selected similarly conservative clothing for now—black pants and a grey shirt. There are robes as well, which confuses Harry at first.

“Wizards wear robes, Harry,” Sirius explains, settling them on Harry’s shoulders, smoothing down the front. “And it’s important that we look the part today. All good?”

Harry puts a hand on his hair. “Is this okay?”

Sirius smiles and points his wand at Harry’s hair, using a familiar charm. “I used to do this for your dad, too. That should tame it a bit, but the hair is hereditary, pup. No getting around it.”

“What is this meeting?” Harry asks, sounding nervous.

“I need to establish myself as the head of the Black family and get access to the accounts, and formally announce my guardianship of you to Gringotts,” Sirius explains. “We’ll apparate there, and then I’ll transform. I’ll need your help getting into the bank without anybody noticing us, though. Think you can do that?”

“Sure,” Harry says quickly. “But, um, how?”

“You’re going to wait for a family to enter a bank and shadow them closely so it looks like you’re one of them,” Sirius says, crouching down to look Harry in the eye. “And I’m going to slink in while no one is looking.”

Harry’s expression is dubious. “You’re a giant dog, though.”

Sirius laughs. “I know, but the bank’s defenses will alert if I go in disillusioned or in disguise. It’s actually going to be easier to go in as a dog.”

Harry shrugs. “Okay, if you say so.”

“We can’t enter together, it’s too risky, and this is the only way I can think of for us both to get into the bank. We’ll be fine.” Sirius projects as much confidence as he can, mostly to set Harry’s mind at ease. He’s not entirely sure it will work, but he knows that he can’t afford to set off the alarms.

Harry nods. “Got it.”

It’s a risk, but Sirius needs access to the Black accounts, and he needs to confirm his guardianship of Harry. That only gets done if they both go to Gringotts together, and Sirius _had_ owled ahead, so the goblins will know he’s coming in his animagus form.

Sirius knows the area well, having been there not long before, and he apparates both of them to an alley a few blocks away. “Ready, Harry?” he asks.

Harry nods, a determined light in his eyes. “Ready.”

Sirius transforms and leads the way to Gringotts, weaving in and out of the people on the street, glancing back often to make sure Harry is still following. Harry seems a little tentative, but he keeps his chin up and stays on Sirius’ heels.

Sirius stops near the bank, hiding in the shadow of a building, and Harry stops next to him, watching the people going in and out. Sirius spots a family, all dressed similarly to Harry, and Sirius nudges Harry’s hand with his nose.

Harry slips out of the shadows and trails the family inside the bank, looking like another family member, and Sirius follows him. He knows the goblins won’t miss him entering, but he’s hoping that most of the humans will be too busy to look down.

It’s not the best plan ever, but it’s the best one he has right now.

As soon as he’s inside, he sees Harry looking around for him, and Sirius keeps to the edge of the room. Harry spots him and makes his way toward Sirius just as a goblin approaches.

“Mr. Black,” the goblin says. “I’m Aglor. We received your letter, and we are prepared for you.”

Sirius waits for Harry to reach them and feels Harry curl his hand into the fur on his back. They follow Aglor, and Sirius realizes they have more eyes on them now, the bank patrons watching as a goblin leads a small boy and a very large dog back to the meeting rooms reserved for important clients.

He’s grateful for small favors—no one is likely to recognize Harry. His face isn’t known yet, and no one expects Harry to be here now. As far as Sirius knows, Harry hasn’t even been reported missing, although he hasn’t checked the paper.

Which is an oversight on his part, and he really should have been better prepared.

Aglor leads them to a small, well-appointed office with a desk and two leather chairs, and bows his way out. “Ulnuk will be with you shortly, Mr. Black. Shall I have tea brought?”

Sirius transforms now that they’re in private. “Please,” he replies, knowing that it would be an insult not to accept. “Thank you.”

“What do I do?” Harry whispers.

“Just be polite, Pronglet,” Sirius tells him quietly. “Goblins aren’t like us, but they appreciate respect.”

Harry nods, and since Sirius hasn’t seen him act rudely yet, he’s not too worried. The tea tray comes before Ulnuk does, and Sirius whispers. “Goblin tea doesn’t taste very nice, but at least pretend to drink it.”

Harry stifles a giggle, but takes an obedient sip when Sirius pours him a cup. Sirius is glad he warned Harry beforehand, because he chokes a bit and then gamely swallows before setting the cup back down. Sirius can’t help but give his hair an affectionate tousle.

When Ulnuk enters, Sirius realizes that he vaguely recalls the goblin from the rare occasion when he accompanied his grandfather to the bank. Up until Sirius sorted into Gryffindor, he’d been the Black heir apparent. After that, it had been Regulus.

Sirius rises as Ulnuk enters, some of his old etiquette lessons kicking in, and Harry also scrambles to his feet. Sirius should have warned him, but it was more reflex than anything else.

“I see you remember your grandfather’s lessons, young Black,” Ulnuk says. “And I remember you.”

“I remember you as well, honored Ulnuk,” Sirius replies. “And I think you for seeing us on such short notice.”

Ulnuk inclines his head. “There are so few Blacks left, and should something happen to you, it would not be Gringotts that prospers.”

“Very true,” Sirius agrees. “Is there any problem with me claiming the Black vaults?”

“No problem at all,” Ulnuk replies. “You _are_ the Black heir, and there are no others. The Black vaults, and everything in them, are rightfully yours. You are, of course, free to disinherit any you see fit, or to welcome back into the family any who have been disinherited.”

Sirius probably shouldn’t be surprised it’s that easy. Without a formal trial and conviction, or a formal disinheritance, Gringotts has no reason to recognize Sirius as anything other than the Black heir. And that means he can officially disinherit Bellatrix, and maybe even hold that threat over Narcissa’s head to get her to toe the line if necessary. He can also bring Andromeda back into the fold; she’s married, and Tonks would be going to Hogwarts now.

But that will all have to wait, since he’s not ready to formally take his place in British wizarding society, and likely won’t be for a while. Best not to take chances with Harry’s safety until he has a solid plan in place.

Sirius nods gratefully. “Thank you.”

“Confirming your guardianship of Mr. Potter is a little trickier,” Ulnuk says slowly.

Sirius stiffens, knowing that it’s an overture to a negotiation. “Is that so?”

Ulnuk glances at Harry. “The Potters’ will was never officially registered, and there is no record of a guardian for young Mr. Potter in the magical world.”

Neither the goblins nor the bank would know anything about the Muggle world, or the authorities, and would have no interest in them anyway. Sirius takes a deep breath. “I see. Do you have a suggestion?”

“Currently, there are no reports that young Mr. Potter is missing, or that anyone is looking for him,” Ulnuk says. “Since he has no guardian in the magical world, and no one has objected to you gaining custody and making him your heir, we can proceed. Assuming you still wish to do so.”

“Of course, I do,” Sirius replies, keeping his voice even with some effort. “His parents asked me to look after him, and there’s no one else I’d rather have as heir to the House of Black.”

“Did you take a blood oath as his godfather?” Ulnuk asks.

Sirius glances at Harry, and says, “No. His mum was working on something, and she didn’t want to risk any interference.”

Ulnuk gives Harry a long, sharp look, and Sirius knows that the goblins often see beneath the surface, far more than wizards do. “Mr. Potter is protected by blood wards, but they’re fading. I wasn’t sure if you knew.”

Harry glances at Sirius. “What does that mean?”

“That means your mum wanted to do everything she could to protect you,” Sirius replies, but his mind is racing.

Lily must have tied the wards to her blood, which her sister also carries. Under Petunia’s roof, the protection remained active. Under Sirius’ roof, Harry doesn’t carry the same protection. At least, that’s his assumption. The problem is that he doesn’t think that was Lily’s original intention, because she never would have agreed to give the Dursleys custody of Harry, not in a million years.

“A godfather can take a blood oath,” Ulnuk says. “But such protections are not so easy to transfer, and such a favor isn’t free.”

Sirius expects to pay through the nose. “What would be required?”

He doesn’t ask how much, because to do so would be an insult to Ulnuk’s honor.

“It is not your protection at stake,” Ulnuk replies. “The debt is Mr. Potter’s.”

Harry glances at Sirius in a panic. “I want to stay with Sirius!”

“Well, that’s the problem, Mr. Potter,” Ulnuk says with deceptive mildness. “There are two important and powerful wizards who would be very interested in your whereabouts. To defy either of them would be difficult. To defy both, nearly impossible.”

Sirius clears his throat. “You said that Harry isn’t missing.”

“No, of course, he isn’t,” Ulnuk replies. “For he is sitting right here. But sooner or later, one of those wizards will want to know his exact location.”

Sirius understands the undercurrents, but there’s no way that Harry does. “What are you asking of Harry?” he inquires. “It’s my responsibility to protect him.”

“You would be remiss in your duties if you did not,” Ulnuk admits. “No, what we would like from Mr. Potter is a favor.”

“What sort of favor?” Sirius asks.

“A pledge,” Ulnuk replies. “To the goblins.”

Sirius is beginning to understand. “Harry, you don’t have to—”

“What kind of pledge?” Harry asks, leaning forward, his eyes sharp.

Ulnuk merely smiles in the goblin way, which is more a baring of teeth than anything else.

Sirius realizes that he’s not going to spell out what the goblins want, and he’s probably not going to leave them alone to talk either. It’s not a great situation, and if Sirius had any idea what Ulnuk would do during the meeting, he would have talked with Harry ahead of time.

He suspects that Ulnuk didn’t want them to know. He seems to have wanted to catch Harry off guard.

Sirius clears his throat, and Ulnuk gives him a sharp warning look. Sirius holds his tongue for now, ready to step in if necessary.

Harry cocks his head. “I won’t forget what you’ve done for me if you help us. Sirius has done more for me than anybody else. Nobody else tried to help me. Not anybody.”

“There are those who will tell you that creatures aren’t worthy of your regard or your favors,” Ulnuk replies.

Harry frowns. “I don’t understand.”

“Not all wizards view goblins as worthy of the same rights as wizards have,” Sirius explains, loath to admit that wizards view anyone other than themselves as less than human, and even more unwilling to discuss blood status.

He doesn’t want to have the pureblood versus half-blood versus Muggle-born conversation right now.

“But that’s stupid!” Harry says irritably. “They’re handling your money, aren’t they? Why would you let them handle your money if they weren’t good at it?”

Ulnuk’s grin turns a little more recognizably amused. “Then I can see we’re going to get on quite well, Mr. Potter. And I believe that we can do very good business together.”

Sirius has nothing against taking a blood oath as Harry’s godfather. He’d have done it on the day Harry was christened—Lily’s choice, not James’—but Lily said she was working on a blood sacrifice ritual, and she didn’t want to risk it.

But if Sirius needs to take a blood oath to protect to Harry, he will. He’ll do anything.

They take the oath with Ulnuk as the witness. The oath is sealed in magic and in blood, and Ulnuk seals the guardianship documents immediately after.

The documents will be stored in the bank, under a host of secrecy vows, based on the confidentiality the bank owes to its patrons. If someone does come looking for Harry, like the British Ministry and its Aurors, the bank will confirm that Harry is safe and with his magic-approved guardian, but nothing more.

Sirius’ blood oath means he’ll sacrifice his magic if he harms Harry or intentionally allows him to come to harm, so there’s nothing illegal or inherently wrong about Gringotts refusing to reveal the secret of Harry’s whereabouts.

In fact, Harry will be safer this way. The farmhouse will be under strong wards, and no one knows about it. Sirius is fairly certain that every other Black has forgotten its existence.

Considering how easy it had been for Sirius to spirit Harry away—he refuses to call it kidnapping—Harry has to be safer with him.

“You will, of course, have use of the Potter vaults for his care,” Ulnuk says at the end.

Sirius shakes his head. “Not necessary. I’ll handle his expenses. That money is for Harry’s future.”

Ulnuk nods. “I believe that Mr. and Mrs. Potter chose wisely when they made you Master Potter’s godfather. And Master Potter, I hope you’ll be very happy with him.”

Sirius rises and sketches a bow. “May your enemies’ gold flow into your coffers.”

“And may your enemies never find you,” Ulnuk returns.

“What do we do now?” Harry whispers as they leave.

Sirius nudges him. “We go home. We just have to make it out of the bank. We’re going to walk out of here, and then apparate once we’re out. Okay?”

Harry nods. “I’m ready.”

Sirius keeps a hand on Harry’s shoulder as they leave the bank, but no one so much as glances their way. He spots a newsstand, and he pauses just long enough to pay for a paper. It’s the French answer to the _Daily Prophet_ , and Sirius tucks it into his robes before leading Harry to a quiet location.

In a few moments, they’re standing in the front yard of the farmhouse. “Go change, Pronglet,” Sirius says. “And then let’s see what the paper is saying about us.”

The paper says absolutely nothing about them, though. There’s no mention of Sirius’ escape or Harry being missing. Granted, it might just not be news in France, but it’s still strange.

“What do they say?” Harry asks, reappearing in his cut-off shorts and a t-shirt.

“Nothing,” Sirius replies. “I’m not sure that your aunt and uncle have reported you missing.”

Harry frowns. “Oh. Is that a bad thing?”

“Not for us, it isn’t,” Sirius replies. “It means no one is looking for you.” He pauses, and realizes that Harry might not be okay with that. “All right there, Harry?”

“So, I can stay with you?” Harry asks. “They aren’t even going to try to make me go back?”

“Doesn’t look like it, and the guardianship papers we filed at the bank mean that they’re going to have a very hard time finding you unless we want to be found,” Sirius replies, tossing the paper down on the table. “What do you say we go down to the village so we can pay Martin and order our brooms?”

Harry seems to shake off any uncertainty he feels. “That sounds good.”

~~~~~

That night, though, Sirius is plagued by nightmares—of the farmhouse being surrounded by Dementors, of the Aurors beating down the door and carrying a screaming Harry away, of Remus betraying their location.

It’s still the early hours of the morning when he rolls out of bed, desperate to escape his dreams, and he heads immediately for the study. He’ll just have to figure out how to build wards that will keep Dementors—and anybody who means them harm—out.

~~~~~

The barn owl that taps on the kitchen window two days later isn’t familiar to Sirius. He and Harry have used their time well, and most of the house is clean and tidy, old junk disposed of, and the peeling wallpaper removed. Sirius has renewed the spells on the paint, so it looks much fresher—although still a bit faded—and he’s even starting to get the hang of cooking. Nothing complicated, but he can put a meal together.

He’s grateful that Harry, while quite perceptive, doesn’t notice his tiredness, or the fact that his sleep has been haunted. Sirius certainly doesn’t want to worry him.

He assumes the owl is from Remus, since Moony is the only one he’s communicated with other than the bank, and he’s not disappointed to see his name on the envelope in Remus’ familiar scrawl.

“Who’s it from?” Harry asks, glancing up from the copy of _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ he found in the study.

“From your Uncle Moony,” Sirius replies.

He quickly skims the letter, pretending not to notice the way Harry is watching him like a hawk over the edge of the book.

_Dear Padfoot,_

_I should be angry with you, but I’ve been watching_ The Daily Prophet _and there’s no mention that Pronglet is missing. Dumbledore asked after your whereabouts when I brought the rat in, but the consensus seemed to be that it would be better if you just quietly disappeared. If you ask me, the Ministry wants to sweep everything under the rug._

_I have to wonder at how well protected Pronglet really was if you could make off with him with no one the wiser. Worse still, it appears that the Muggles haven’t mentioned him going missing to their law enforcement._

_I’d like to help if I can. I realize you might not be able to tell me your location, but I’d like to get to know him. And you’d probably better come up with a plan to clear your name officially if you want to keep him. The remaining Marauders need to stick together._

_Moony_

_P.S. Thank you for the Wolfsbane potion. I have no idea where you found it, or how you came up with it, but I found someone to brew it, and the idea of spending a full moon in my right mind is…there are no words._

“Is it good news?” Harry asks.

“Well, it’s certainly not bad news,” Sirius murmurs. “Moony wants to help.”

“What do we need help with?” Harry is frowning. “We’re fine.”

Sirius smiles at him. “Too right, but it seems the Ministry would like to forget that I exist, and that might not work out for us long term, pup. I’ll have to think about it.”

“But if they forget you exist, that means we can stay together,” Harry argues. “So it would be a good thing.”

The idea of staying at the farm and watching Harry grow up here, letting the rest of the world go hang, sounds pretty damn good. There’s a part of Sirius that wants nothing more than that.

“It might be,” Sirius admits. “We’ll have to think about it pretty hard, right? I think we’re due to pick up our new wardrobes in town today, and we need to get something for dinner. What were you thinking?”

Harry frowns. “Maybe sandwiches? I like your fried egg sandwiches best.”

“With bacon?”

Harry shoots him a look that suggests Sirius is being stupid.

“Right, of course with bacon, what was I thinking?” Sirius asks with a laugh. “We need bread, and maybe they’ll still have some pastries left over for tomorrow morning.”

Eventually, Sirius might actually have to think about a balanced diet, but he and Harry both still need to put on weight, and neither of them is all that interested in vegetables.

And Sirius wants to indulge Harry right now. Maybe that will come back to bite him later, but Harry deserves a little bit of spoiling.

They pick up their packages from Martin, and Sirius shrinks them and puts them in his pocket, a casual display of magic that still makes Harry go wide-eyed with wonder.

“I’m having Ines and her family over for dinner the night after next,” Martin says. “Nothing fancy. I’d be pleased if you both would join us.”

“I would love the chance to eat cooking that isn’t mine,” Sirius admits. “Thank you for the invitation.”

“ _Merci, boucoup_ ,” Harry adds, his accent definitely improved.

“ _Très bien, Monsieur Potter_ ,” Martin praises. “You’ll sound like a native in no time.”

Sirius tries not to let his disquiet show. It would be great if Harry could speak French fluently, because fall is on the way. Sirius is ever-mindful of his responsibilities as Harry’s godfather, and that includes an education.

And he has no idea where Harry might go to school at the moment.

“Your brooms shall be here next week, gentlemen,” Martin adds. “I just received confirmation by owl today.”

Sirius thanks him, and they exchange a handshake.

They stop by the store on their way out of the village and back to the farmhouse, and Sirius grabs some carrots and green beans as a sop to his conscience.

That night, they eat fried egg and bacon sandwiches with green beans, and when Harry goes to bed, Sirius sits down to write Remus back.

_Dear Moony_ ,

_I could use your help. I would love to have you here, but I have to think about Pronglet. I can’t risk him. Right now, we’re safe, and no one seems to be looking for us. I’m not sure I want that to change, but I also have to consider his education, and his future._

_I need a plan, and I haven_ _’t had much of one up until now. Until I have a strategy, I’m not sure I can reveal our location to anyone, even you._

_Pronglet should know his Uncle Moony, and he should have some friends his own age. I’m just not sure how to get there._

_Padfoot_

Sirius deliberately uses their Marauder names. He’s not worried about the letter being intercepted, but there’s no sense in taking stupid chances.

He feels a pang of longing, wishing that they were still together. He has his memories of that other time, when Remus was here, and those memories are sometimes so close his heart aches.

Most of the time, though, he’s so busy with Harry that he doesn’t think about it.

Tonight, though, Sirius misses Remus fiercely, and instead of going up to his empty bed, he lies down on the couch in the study, holding the letter tightly.

~~~~~

It turns out that Martin has not just invited Ines, but also Ines’ mother and her grandchildren, the oldest thirteen and the youngest eight. They don’t speak much English, and Harry doesn’t speak much French, but Martin has a swing in his front yard, and after a few minutes of awkwardness, all three are taking turns outside.

Sirius stands on the porch and accepts a glass of red wine from Martin, watching Therese’s curls bounce as she pushes Harry on the swing while Lionel eggs them on in French, his teeth very white against his brown skin. “You didn’t say there would be other children here.”

Ines and Louise are inside, although not before Louise had given Sirius a very hard look. He wonders what she’d seen to put that satisfied expression on her face, prior to announcing that she needed Ines’ help in the house.

“I thought Harry might enjoy having other children to play with, and they’re magical as well,” Martin replies in French. “Therese will be returning to Beauxbatons in September, and Lionel will be going back to his academy in Paris. Have you made plans for Harry’s schooling?”

Sirius shakes his head. “No. Harry isn’t fluent enough for the village school, and I haven’t investigated other options.”

“Lionel’s academy accepts both magical children and Squibs,” Martin points out.

“But do they offer lessons in English?” Sirius asks. “That’s what he would need right now.”

Sirius wonders why Martin has taken such an interest in him and Harry, and why he isn’t interested in turning them in to the authorities. Martin has to know about him and his escape from Azkaban at this point.

“You should speak with Louise,” Martin finally says after a moment. “She taught for some time, and might be able to direct you.”

Ines joins them on the porch with Martin’s sister, Louise, and Sirius has to admit that it’s rather nice to speak with other adults for a change. Louise is retired and has her grandchildren with her every summer. When she hears that Sirius and Harry will be picking up their brooms the next day, she suggests another playdate, since both Therese and Lionel are mad for flying, and Therese plays Quidditch at Beauxbatons.

“Harry has never experienced Quidditch,” Sirius admits. “He’s been raised around Muggles until now.”

Louise tsks. “I suppose there’s nothing wrong with that, but it puts a child at a disadvantage when it’s time for them to go to school. Therese and Lionel’s father isn’t magical, but he’s embraced magic for his children, at least.”

“Dennis likes magic, _Maman_ ,” Ines says with a bit of asperity. “And he’s quite a good doctor.”

Louise gives a gallic shrug, a challenging light in her eyes, the same blue as her brother’s. “How should we know? We know nothing of non-magical healing, do we?”

“My sister works at the hospital in Paris,” Ines adds for Sirius’ benefit. “They’re a good match, really, although they sometimes have very loud arguments about whose techniques are better.”

Sirius laughs. “That could be entertaining.”

“It can be,” Louise admits dryly. “If you enjoy that sort of thing.”

Sirius decides that he likes Louise and her faint disapproval of just about everything.

“Dinner is ready,” Martin announces. “If you would call the children in.”

They all sit around a long table, a large clay serving pot in the middle filled with sausages and white beans, with several baguettes in a basket. The meal smells incredible, and Martin does the honors and dishes up for everyone.

For a moment, as they’re all eating, Sirius can imagine what it might have been like had Lily and James survived—family dinners like this one, with the Potters and him and Remus. He had wanted this for Harry, for Harry to feel as though he’s not alone, for him to experience a real family. And even if this one is only borrowed, at least Harry can see that not everyone is like the Dursleys.

Harry does his best to speak as much French as he can during the meal. It’s a valiant effort, and at the end of the meal, Louise says to him, in English, “I tell you what, Harry. You and your godfather will fly with Therese and Lionel, and I will give you French lessons. How will that be?”

“I wouldn’t want to be a bother,” Harry begins.

“Nonsense!” Louise says. “Therese has been looking for more of a challenge so that she can play on her house Quidditch team again, and it seems you’ll be staying in the village for the rest of the summer at least. I used to teach school, you know.”

“She was the toughest teacher in the village,” Ines murmurs. “All the children feared her.” But then she directs a wink at Harry, and he offers a shy smile.

“Just do your best, and there’s nothing to fear,” Louise declares, with a toss of her iron-grey hair. “It was the lazy students who were afraid of me.”

“I’m not lazy,” Harry assures her.

“Then we will get along very well indeed,” Louise replies.

The children beg to play a little longer after dinner, and Sirius says, “I certainly don’t mind, although once it starts getting dark, we’ll need to be on our way, all right, Harry?”

“All right!” he says with exuberance, and he and Lionel rush outside, with Therese following at a more sedate pace.

“It’s good for him to be around other children,” Sirius admits. “Thank you for this, Martin.”

Martin shrugs. “Children that age make friends so quickly, and I know it’s the two of you alone in that house. He seems like a lonely child.”

“I think he was,” Sirius admits. “But I’m hoping to change that.”

“He’ll have the rest of the summer to play with Lionel and Therese,” Ines points out. “And I’m sure Lionel, in particular, will enjoy having Harry over.”

Later that night, as they’re walking home, Sirius asks, “Did you have fun tonight, Pronglet?”

Harry is quiet as he considers the question. “It’s kind of hard to communicate, since my French isn’t very good, but we still had fun.”

“Communication is important, but that doesn’t always mean using words,” Sirius replies, resting a hand on Harry’s shoulder with a squeeze.

“I never had a friend before,” Harry admits. “Dudley and his gang made that impossible. They’d beat up anybody who was even a little bit nice to me.”

Sirius knows that he probably shouldn’t want to murder a child, but he wouldn’t mind hexing Dudley within an inch of his life. Right after he does the same thing to the adult Dursleys, who should have raised their child not to be a bully.

“You’ll make plenty of friends,” Sirius assures him. “Lionel is just the first. And we’ll pick up our brooms tomorrow and in a couple of days, you can play with him and Therese again.”

Harry hesitates. “But what happens when they go back to school? Where am I going to go?”

“I don’t know that yet,” Sirius admits. “In a lot of wizarding families, including my own, they teach their children at home until it’s time to send them away to school.”

“Are you going to teach me at home?” Harry asks.

“What do you want to do?” Sirius responds.

Harry frowns, giving the question real consideration. “I think I’d rather go to school, because I can make more friends, and Dudley won’t be there.”

“You won’t be going to school with him again,” Sirius promises. “I’ll have to do some research, but maybe once I have some options narrowed down, we can pick the right school together?”

Harry brightens at that. “Really?”

“I won’t be going there,” Sirius points out. “It makes sense that you’d have a choice.”

“I never had one before,” Harry replies.

“Everything is different now, love,” Sirius replies. “Let’s just see where we are at the end of the summer, shall we?”

Harry slips his hand inside Sirius’. “Okay. I like that idea.”

~~~~~

Sirius still remembers Harry’s first birthday, watching Harry zip around on the toy broom Sirius gave him. Harry had been utterly fearless from the first, completely enraptured by the toy, even though it didn’t go more than a foot or so off the floor.

Lily had tried to be disapproving, but Harry’s joy had been contagious, and James had said, “Look at him go, Lils! He’ll be captain of the Gryffindor house team for sure!”

“Sirius, did you have to?” Lily asked. “He was already hard to keep out of trouble!”

“But look how much fun he’s having,” Sirius argued. “He’s a natural.”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” she muttered, but she had a smile on her face at the time.

Sirius wishes they were here now to watch Harry unwrap his broom. They’d picked them up in town—along with pastries, of course—and now Harry is staring at it. “This will fly?”

“Of course,” Sirius replies.

He opted to get them both Cleansweeps, since they’re solid brooms with sufficient safety features for someone who’s still learning. Later, when Harry’s a little older, he’ll buy a Nimbus, but that’s for the future.

“Let’s go outside, and I’ll show you,” Sirius says.

Harry’s expression is a little dubious, but he follows Sirius outside.

“Put the broom on the ground,” Sirius directs. “Then hold out your hand and say up with authority.”

Harry takes a deep, audible breath. “Up!” The broom flies into his hand, and Harry looks delighted. “It worked!”

Sirius holds out a hand and his broom also flies up. “You were flying almost before you could walk, Pronglet. You already know how to do this, you just don’t remember. Now, throw a leg over, grip the handle firmly, and then kick off from the ground.”

Harry does as Sirius says, his tongue poking out between his lips in concentration, and then he floats about two feet off the ground.

“Well done,” Sirius praises. “Very well done. Now, we’re going to lean in to move forward, to either side in order to turn, and pull back to stop. Got it?”

“Got it,” Harry says.

“Good job,” Sirius praises. “Now, before we get going, we’re going to stay low and practice landing, okay?”

After taking off and landing a few times, Sirius is satisfied that Harry can land fairly well, and then he starts running a few drills he remembers from Quidditch practice. Really, it hadn’t been that long ago that Sirius had been playing for Gryffindor. Sirius keeps things very low key until Harry appears a little more comfortable, and then he leads Harry in some flying exercises.

By the time Sirius decides to call it quits, Harry’s hair is even more disordered than usual, his cheeks ruddy with the wind, and his grin is bright. “Do we have to stop?” Harry asks. “I could fly all day!”

“You’ll be flying tomorrow with Lionel and Therese,” Sirius reminds him. “And you were using some different muscles today. You might not be feeling it now, but you will tomorrow.”

Harry grimaces. “Really?”

“Really,” Sirius replies. “Don’t worry, though. Doing more of the same will help. Besides, I think it’s dinner time. Aren’t you hungry?”

“Starving!” Harry declares.

“Well, let’s see what we can do about that, huh?” Sirius replies.

Remus’ reply arrives by owl while they’re eating sandwiches of ham and good butter on a baguette. Sirius should probably expand his cooking repertoire but Harry has yet to complain.

“Is that from Uncle Moony?” Harry asks.

Sirius is grateful that Harry seems to be getting used to the idea that Remus is writing regularly, and maybe will be coming to visit. Sirius suspects that getting out and spending time with other people has broken their self-imposed isolation. It’s possible that Harry understands Sirius needs a friend just as much as Harry does.

“It is,” Sirius replies. “I’ll read it after dinner. What book are you working on now?”

Harry hasn’t lost his delight or his interest in the Black library, and while Sirius had exacted a promise out of him not to try any spells on his own, Harry has been absorbed in whatever book comes to hand. The history of magic, the bestiary, books about common household charms, _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_ , a book of first year spells, Harry reads them all.

“The one on the history of magic,” Harry replies. “The goblin rebellions got a little boring, but I think I’m ready to dive back in again.”

“Most people find the goblin rebellions a bit boring,” Sirius admits. “There were quite a few of them.”

“How come?” Harry asks. “They run Gringotts now, and that seems to suit them.”

Sirius hesitates. “Yes, I believe it does. The goblins have always been interested in acquiring wealth, which sometimes put them at odds with wizards.”

Harry takes a bite of his sandwich and chews slowly. Sirius knows that’s a sign he’s about to ask a question he’s not sure will go over well, and he’s biding his time.

Sirius waits him out.

“Are wizards bad?” Harry asks.

Sirius thinks about it. “You’re going to have to be a little more specific than that, Pronglet.”

“Well, the goblins rebelled an awful lot,” Harry says. “So, they must not have been very happy. Did wizards do things that made them unhappy?”

Sirius takes a deep breath. “That’s a harder question to answer than you might think.”

“How come?”

“Because most wizards are raised to believe that goblins aren’t, well, they’re not like us, and they aren’t,” Sirius explains awkwardly. “But we don’t ever stop to question whether or not we’re better or just different.”

“Are wizards bullies?”

“Some of us are,” Sirius admits slowly. “I haven’t always been as kind as I could have been. There are things I did that I very much regret now. Why do you ask?”

Harry shrugs. “I don’t know.”

That’s not true, but Sirius doesn’t press. There are still things that Harry won’t talk about, that he has difficulty sharing, and that might be normal for his age, or normal for Harry, or maybe he just needs time.

Sirius has known Harry as a baby, and as a teenager, but this is all new to him.

“I think wizards have made some very bad decisions when it comes to other magical races and creatures,” Sirius admits, thinking of Kreacher, and wondering if he should do something about the house elf at some point.

Regulus had been fond of him, and Regulus had—

Sirius frowns, thinking of the hints that Reg dropped. There had been something Regulus couldn’t tell him, something to do with Voldemort, and if Sirius doesn’t want Harry to have to face him, he’s going to have to do something about it.

He should probably add that to his list.

“How come?” Harry asks.

“Probably because they don’t look like us, and they don’t act like us, so it’s harder to understand them,” Sirius replies. “I’m sure that’s true for humans, as well.”

Harry nods. “Dudley and his friends weren’t very nice to one of the other kids in my class. He wore a turban.”

Sirius isn’t quite sure what to do with that, but he asks, “How did that make you feel?”

Harry looks away, clearly ashamed. “I was just glad they weren’t chasing me for a bit.”

“And what happened?” Sirius asks.

Harry hitches one shoulder. “I think his parents spoke to the teacher. My—the Muggles weren’t happy about it, but Dudley and his friends stopped.”

There’s a lot to unpack in that confession, and Sirius has no idea where to start. “I think it’s normal to be glad that you’re not being hurt,” he begins slowly. “And that’s nothing to be ashamed of, Harry. Your aunt and uncle should have made sure that Dudley wasn’t hurting you, and if they found out about it, they should have put a stop to it, like that other boy’s parents did.”

“But I didn’t help him,” Harry mutters.

“Could you have?” Sirius asks.

Harry stares down at the table. “I don’t know.”

“Then it’s water under the bridge, pup,” Sirius says gently. “And next time you see someone being hurt, you’ll know what to do. You’ll come to me, and we’ll work out a plan together.”

He gets up and gives Harry a quick hug. “Don’t worry about it. Sometimes, we have to learn things the hard way.”

Sirius knows that he has. After all, it’s taken him several lifetimes.

~~~~~

_Dear Padfoot,_

_I know you can’t tell me where you are, but can we meet somewhere? I have some ideas for what we can do, and the choice of school is going to depend on what strategy you decide to employ. Let me know when and where._

_Moony_

Sirius folds the letter back up and tucks it into his pocket. It’s been two days, and he hasn’t yet given Remus a response. There’s six weeks before the end of the summer, and Sirius knows that he needs to decide on a school. What school will be dependent both on their strategy and Harry’s decision, though.

He glances up to check on Harry, who’s practicing his French with Louise. She’s been far more patient than Sirius expected, and Harry seems to be having fun with it. Therese and Lionel have been promised flying time after Harry’s lesson, and they seem to be using the time to work on their own homework.

It’s a peaceful, homey scene, and Sirius decides to use the time to write a response.

_Moony,_

_Let_ _’s meet in Paris. There’s_ _a caf_ _é I know of that serves excellent gelato. You can meet Pronglet again, and we can talk about what to do next._

_Padfoot_

At the end of the letter, Sirius scribbles down the address and a date and time. He makes a mental note to get an emergency portkey for Harry, just in case Remus isn’t being entirely truthful about his opinion on Harry staying with him.

Sirius trusts Remus, but he remembers that other life, when Remus was still Dumbledore’s man.

“Are you ready, Padfoot?” Harry asks, shifting from foot to foot with excitement. “We’re done!”

Louise is smiling. “He’s doing quite well, too.”

“Excellent,” Sirius replies. “And yes, I’m ready.”

Therese and Lionel run to grab their brooms, and Sirius and Harry grab theirs.

“I hear you play Quidditch for your house team,” Sirius says once they’re outside.

Therese has pulled her curly hair into a ponytail, and her hazel eyes are sparkling with excitement. “Yes, I do. Did you play?”

“For a few years as a Chaser,” Sirius replies. “You?”

“Keeper,” Therese replies. “I need a challenge.”

In English, Sirius says, “Remember what I told you about Quidditch, Harry? We’re going to try to get the Quaffle through the hoops while Therese plays Keeper.”

They don’t have a full Quidditch pitch in the backyard of Louise’s farmhouse, located a few miles from their farmhouse. She does have a set of hoops, though, even if they’re much shorter than they are on a regular pitch.

Still, they’re high enough that a tumble from their brooms will cause injury.

Harry grins. “Okay!”

Harry has come a long way in just a few days, and he gets the hang of passing the Quaffle fairly quickly. He and Lionel pass it back and forth between them and to Sirius, taking turns trying to send it through the hoops.

Harry and Lionel wear huge grins as they play, shouting to pass the Quaffle, while Therese frowns in concentration as she defends the hoops. 

Sirius is having just as much fun as the kids; he can’t remember the last time he’d just played like this—maybe not since Hogwarts.

When Louise finally calls them in, announcing that Therese and Lionel need to get cleaned up for dinner, Sirius and Harry apparate home.

“I think we’ll go to Paris next week,” Sirius says casually. “I’d like to get an owl of our own, rather than having to go to the village any time I send a letter.”

“So you can write to Uncle Moony?” Harry asks.

Sirius hesitates. “Pretty much. Are you okay with that?”

Harry shrugs. “I guess. Is he going to come live with us?”

“I don’t know,” Sirius admits. “He’s really important to me, and I miss him a lot.”

“Then he should come visit,” Harry says.

“I don’t know if it’s safe for him to know where we are,” Sirius replies. “So, we’re going to meet him in Paris and get some ice cream, and maybe find out if he can help. Sound fair?”

“That sounds fair,” Harry agrees.

“He’s really smart,” Sirius adds. “He might be able to help us find a school for you, too.”

“You’re really smart!” Harry protests.

Sirius smiles and tousles his hair. “Thank you, pup, but there are times when two heads are better than one.”

“I guess,” Harry agrees.

“Is there anywhere you want to go while we’re in Paris?” Sirius asks.

“A bookstore?” Harry asks. “I know that there are a lot of books in the library already, but there wasn’t anything on Quidditch, and Louise said I should practice French at home, too, if I want to be fluent.”

“There is no such a thing as too many books,” Sirius replies. “That’s not a problem at all.”

Harry grins. “Thanks, Padfoot!”

Sirius is just relieved that Harry seems comfortable asking for things he wants, even if they aren’t things he needs. Sirius counts that as progress.

~~~~~

The day they head into Paris, Sirius makes sure that Harry is dressed in some of his smarter clothing. Sirius doesn’t want to stand out at the portkey office, so he decides they’ll wear their robes to apparate there, and then he’ll shrink them before heading to the café.

He’s taking a risk and saving their trip to the bookstore for after the café. There are magical books that will do a better job of helping Harry practice his French, and he’s rather hoping that things will go well, and Remus will agree to accompany them.

Remus loves a bookstore, and Sirius wants to give Harry a chance to get to know him. Unlike those other times, when Remus had been familiar with an infant Harry, or with a teenage Harry as his professor, they’re strangers now.

Before they leave, Sirius sits Harry down and goes over the safety precautions. “I don’t expect trouble, but I don’t want to take any chances either.”

Harry nods seriously. “I understand.”

“We’re going to the portkey office first,” Sirius begins. “You’re going to hang onto it, and if anything goes wrong, you’ll activate it with a word, and it will take you right back here. If I can’t come with you, go straight to Louise’s house.”

Harry’s expression turns mutinous. “What about you?”

“I’m hoping it’s not necessary, Pronglet, but the most important thing is your safety,” Sirius says quietly. “You must promise me.”

Harry’s lip trembles a bit. “I promise.”

“It’s probably worry over nothing,” Sirius assures him. “But better to be safe than sorry, right?”

Harry nods bravely. “Right.”

“Portkey office first,” Sirius says. “Ready?”

“Ready.” Harry takes a grip on Sirius’ arm, and in the blink of an eye, they’re standing in front of the Paris portkey office. Sirius needs to investigate having a permanent one made for Harry, so he can always get home. There are at least a couple in the Black vault, but they’re tied to Grimmauld Place or the Black Manor, neither of which would be all that helpful.

He keeps a hand on Harry’s shoulder as they enter, and Sirius explains what he needs in French. “An emergency portkey for my godson, please.” He gives the address of the farmhouse and provides the desired password, something that Harry isn’t likely to say during the course of normal conversation.

“Okay, Harry,” he says once they’re outside the office. The portkey is in the form of a bottle cap, and Sirius asks, “Which pocket is empty?”

“My left-hand pocket,” Harry says readily.

“Good. Put that in your left pocket, and keep your hand out of there unless you need to use it,” Sirius directs, and waits as Harry does so. “The password is James. Repeat it for me.”

“James,” Harry repeats. “My dad’s name.”

“Just so,” Sirius agrees. “If I tell you to go, what are you going to do?”

“Grab the bottle cap and say James, then go straight to Madame Louise’s house,” Harry says, his chin tilted at a determined angle.

“Good lad,” Sirius praises. “Now, let’s get out of these robes so we can go meet Remus.”

The café is about a kilometer away from the portkey office, outside of magical Paris, and an easy walk for the two of them, as they’ve been walking plenty since they arrived at the farmhouse.

Remus is already there, sitting at a small table outside. He’s wearing the same shabby coat as he had when Sirius turned Peter in, his sandy hair falling into his eyes. Remus appears better rested than Sirius has seen in a while, but that makes sense. He would have had a full moon with the Wolfsbane by now.

“Padfoot,” Remus says, getting to his feet.

Sirius embraces him tightly and feels Remus pound him on the back. “You look good.”

“Thanks to you,” Remus replies, pulling back to look Sirius in the eye. “I mean it.”

Sirius forces himself to pull back. “It was entirely my pleasure, Moony. I’m glad it helped.” He takes a breath. “Remus, this is Harry. Harry, this is Remus Lupin.”

Harry holds out a hand politely. “Pleased to meet you.”

“I’m very pleased to meet you as well, Harry,” Remus says gravely. “You look exactly like your father, except for your eyes. You have your mother’s eyes.”

Harry has a pleased smile, and Sirius suspects that he’s pleased with any reminder of his parents—or any positive reminder.

“Do you want ice cream?” Sirius asks.

Harry nods enthusiastically. “Yes, please.”

Sirius hands him a few francs. “Go get something for the both of us, Pronglet.”

“What flavor?” Harry asks.

“Surprise me,” Sirius replies. “You know I’ll eat anything sweet.”

Harry grins and practically skips into the café.

“He’s looking quite well,” Remus observes. “As are you. You’ve put on a bit of weight.”

“You’re not saying I’m fat, are you?” Sirius teases.

Remus snorts. “Please. You know better than that. It looks good on you. You look happy.”

“I am,” Sirius admits. “It’s been wonderful having Harry with me. We’re staying in the countryside, and I think it’s been good for him.”

“It certainly seems to be,” Remus admits. “He looks just like James.” He sounds a bit wistful, and Sirius suspects that Remus misses their friends even more than Sirius, who at least has Harry with him.

“He has Lily’s heart, as well as her eyes,” Sirius replies. “And he’s terribly bright. I have him in French lessons this summer, although I don’t think he’ll be ready to go to a French language school this fall.”

Remus hesitates. “I have an idea about that, actually, and some options. There’s a language transference spell I found. Harry will need to practice, but it should allow him to attend any school of your choosing.”

Sirius hadn’t thought about that option. If they do the spell soon, Harry will have plenty of time to practice with Louise and her grandchildren.

“Will you stay in Paris or apparate?” Remus asks.

“It would probably be better if we could stay in Paris, at least during the week,” Sirius admits. “But it would make us easier to find.”

“Not necessarily,” Remus begins, then pauses when Harry reappears, carrying two large cups of ice cream.

“What have we here?” Sirius asks.

“One scoop of chocolate, and one of cinnamon,” Harry reports. “And I have one of raspberry and one of chocolate.”

“Thank you, pup, it looks delicious,” Sirius says. “We were just talking, and there might be a spell we can do to bring your language skills up to par much faster.”

Harry straightens up. “Does that mean I might be able to go to school with Lionel?”

“Well, that’s something we can certainly consider,” Sirius replies. “Is that something you’d like?”

Harry nods. “It would be nice to go to school with someone I already know, and Lionel is my friend.”

“Indeed, he is,” Sirius agrees. “Let’s look into it, shall we?”

Harry grins brightly as he digs into his ice cream. “That would be brilliant! Would we be in the same year?”

“I don’t know, Pronglet,” Sirius replies. “You might be a year behind, but you’d still be in the same school if it works out.”

“All right,” Harry says equably.

Sirius and Remus share a smile. “There are a couple of other schools I researched that might be appropriate,” Remus adds. “If that one doesn’t suit.”

“We were planning on going to a bookstore after this, if you want to come with us,” Sirius offers

Remus smiles. “I would like that very much.”

They don’t talk any more about the future, and Sirius asks, “What have you been up to recently, Moony?”

“Mostly courier work,” Remus admits. “And a few acquisitions. Nothing much, though.”

Sirius frowns. “Are you still in contact with Dumbledore?”

Remus glances at Harry, who’s applying himself enthusiastically to his ice cream. “Not really. I haven’t had any cause, and he hasn’t reached out to me, not after I brought in Pettigrew.”

Sirius knows that means Dumbledore hasn’t realized Harry isn’t with the Dursleys anymore, which seems odd. He’s not too surprised that the Dursleys haven’t reported Harry missing. To do so, they might have to admit that they had neglected him in the first instance.

“What do you think?” Sirius asks.

“I think there’s probably someone watching, but they haven’t seen anything out of the ordinary,” Remus replies carefully.

“He might have thought the protections already in place were sufficient,” Sirius says. “The goblins did say that Harry had blood protections.”

“I suppose that’s something,” Remus admits.

Harry chases the last bits of ice cream in the dish. “Can we go to the bookstore now?”

Sirius chuckles. “Yes, we can.”

They walk to the bookstore in magical Paris, located not far from the portkey office, and Sirius tells Harry, “You can choose up to three books in addition to the ones we already talked about, whatever you like.”

“Thanks!” Harry says and takes off.

“He’s lovely,” Remus says. “And he’s settled in well with you it seems.”

“I like to think so,” Sirius replies, getting down to business now that they don’t have an audience. “Now, what can you tell me, Moony?”

Remus sighs. “Not much more than I already have. No one seems to have raised an alarm, and last I heard, they put Wormtail in Azkaban. I haven’t heard anything about a trial, or any real attempts to clear your name.”

Sirius snorts. “Why should they? As long as I stay out of sight, they don’t have to admit that anyone ever escaped from Azkaban, or that they chucked me in there without a trial to begin with.”

“Which is fine for now, but they’re going to discover Harry’s missing eventually, Pads,” Remus says slowly. “What will you do then?”

Sirius has no good answer for that. “What would you suggest?”

“Get out ahead of it,” Remus replies. “Figure out a way to use all of it to your advantage. If the public finds out that Harry disappeared with no one the wiser, you won’t have any trouble keeping custody.”

“I have custody,” Sirius replies. “My guardianship has been registered with Gringotts, and they’ve said they’ll keep Harry’s location a secret.”

“There you go,” Remus replies. “You have him, and you’re not in England. The Ministry can’t reach you here. Have you thought about where you’ll send him for school?”

Sirius knows that Remus is referring to a magical school. “I’m hoping Hogwarts, but not if it isn’t safe,” Sirius replies. “I know James and Lily would want him to go there, but would you think me crazy if I told you I didn’t want to send him away? I don’t want to miss any more time with him.”

“No, that’s not crazy,” Remus replies. “It’s clear the two of you have bonded.”

“And what are you going to do, Moony?” Sirius asks.

“I’m going to contact a solicitor for you,” Remus says. “I know someone who might do. She’s very smart, but she’s still getting herself established. She’ll be running the Ministry before it’s all over, though.”

“I trust you,” Sirius says simply, knowing that he was likely referring to Miriam. “I’d like you to visit, but I need to know that no one will follow you.”

Remus laughs a little bitterly. “I doubt they remember my existence most of the time, Padfoot. Bringing Wormtail in reminded them briefly, but I soon faded into obscurity again.”

“That will change when they find out I have Harry,” Sirius counters.

“And I will be making myself very scarce indeed,” Remus replies. “Don’t worry. I wouldn’t put either of you in danger.”

This is the Remus that Sirius has missed so badly, the Remus who had helped him clean the house to prepare it for Harry’s arrival, who had helped him clear his name.

It turns out that Remus had been ready to have Sirius enter his life again, and Sirius just hadn’t known it.

“Let me contact the solicitor,” Remus continues. “Once that’s sorted, and we’ve worked out a strategy, we can talk about me visiting. And once you’ve done the language transference spell, and you know how it’s working out for Harry, I can finish up my research into the best schools.”

“My guess is that he’ll want to go to the same school as his friend,” Sirius admits. “And that being the case, and if he makes enough friends in primary who are headed to Beauxbatons, he might not want to go to Hogwarts.”

“And what will you do then?” Remus asks, his blue eyes serious.

“Whatever makes Harry happiest,” Sirius replies. “Shall we go find him?”

Harry has a stack of books next to him where he’s sitting on the floor, painstakingly flipping through them, trying to decide which three to take home.

There is, Sirius admits to himself, a very good chance they’ll be buying all of them, but then Remus sits down on the floor next to Harry and asks him a question about the book he’s currently paging through, and Sirius just leans against a shelf to watch.

It’s a pleasant sight.

He’s not surprised that Remus seems to win Harry over. He engages Harry on his level, and asks questions about the books, and why Harry is interested in them. From what Sirius has heard, Remus had been an excellent professor for that reason: his ability to engage with children and meet them where they are, to treat them like people, but not necessarily like adults.

“So, which ones will you choose?” Remus asks after the merits of each have been fully discussed.

“I don’t know,” Harry says uncertainly. “Maybe I can come back for the others?”

Sirius squats down next to them. “Or how about we just get all of them?”

“But you said only three,” Harry replies, sounding distressed.

Sirius offers a crooked grin. “Well, that was before I heard your very well-reasoned arguments for including each of them. I didn’t know you’d find more than three books that you needed.”

Harry frowns, and Sirius isn’t quite sure where the hesitation is coming from. Remus reaches out to tap the cover of a book. “There are times when someone will just do something nice for you, Harry. Unexpectedly, and without wanting anything in return, just because they like you.”

“Oh,” Harry says, as though the thought hadn’t occurred to him before, and maybe it hadn’t. “What do you do then?”

“You say thank you,” Remus replies with a gentle smile. “It’s a hard lesson for some of us to learn, especially when there haven’t been a lot of people who want to do nice things for us in the past.”

Harry tilts his head. “Thank you, Padfoot.”

“As your godfather, sometimes I’m going to spoil you a bit, and buying a few extra books hardly counts as spoiling you.” Sirius touches the tip of his nose. “There’s no such thing as too many books, love.”

Harry smiles brightly, and Sirius hopes that someday Harry will be able to accept such gifts from him without coaching.

“Are you hungry?” Sirius asks Harry.

“Starving!” Harry says, maybe relieved to be on to a safer topic. “Can Remus come to dinner with us?”

“I don’t know,” Sirius replies. “Can Remus come to dinner with us?”

Remus smiles. “I think I’d like that very much.”

“And after that, we’ll choose our owl,” Sirius says. “Maybe Remus wouldn’t mind giving us a hand with that as well.”

Sirius wants Remus there mostly so he’ll recognize which owl is theirs. “I’d like that, too,” Remus replies.

Dinner is pleasant, and Sirius tries to hold back from flirting, even though he wants to very badly. There’s a moment during dinner when Sirius opens his mouth to make a comment about Remus looking particularly good right now, and he bites it back.

Based on Remus’ expression, he knows exactly what Sirius was about to say.

“What sort of owl do you want?” Remus asks Harry.

“I don’t know,” Harry says. “What kinds are there?”

Sirius remembers Harry’s snowy owl, Hedwig, and he certainly doesn’t want to try to fill her place before she enters his life. “There are quite a few different sorts of owls,” Remus replies. “Although if you’re going to be sending messages across the Channel regularly, you’ll want one with some stamina.”

“I was thinking a screech owl,” Sirius says. “Plenty of stamina, not terribly noticeable, and they can be trained to make a godawful racket if a stranger approaches.”

Remus laughs. “I’m not sure I’ve ever heard of a guard owl, but it’s not a bad idea.”

“We’ll just make sure to introduce you, so you won’t be a stranger,” Sirius says, which is as close to flirting as he’s willing to get right now.

Remus doesn’t seem to mind, though, and Harry doesn’t notice, so the evening is definitely a success.


	2. Part the Second: In Which Sirius Begins to Make Actual Plans

“What did you think of Remus?” Sirius asks the next day over breakfast, porridge this time, because Sirius is trying to set an example. They probably shouldn’t eat _pain au chocolat_ every day. Even if they like it and can afford it.

Plus, he hadn’t slept well the night before, plagued by nightmares again, and porridge is comforting. Not having to walk to the village is a bonus.

“I liked him,” Harry says. “Are you going to do what he suggests?”

“You mean, am I going to follow his advice and hire a solicitor to help me clear my name?” Sirius asks. “I think I might. It would be easier for you to go to school. And I could do more to change things.”

“What kind of things?” Harry asks with his mouth full.

Sirius smiles. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, pup. And I don’t know yet, but I want to make sure people are safe, and make it so the people who would try to hurt you can’t do that.”

Harry considers that for a bit. “I think you should then. You saved me.”

Harry’s simple faith undoes him, and Sirius has to blink rapidly. “Okay, then,” Sirius replies. “That’s what I’ll do.”

“Can I go to school with Lionel?” Harry asks.

“Let’s see what Louise says,” Sirius replies diplomatically. “If you’re ready to have your lessons in French by the time school begins, then I’ll consider it.”

Harry sighs. “Okay. But it would be really fun to go to school with Lionel.”

“I know,” Sirius replies. “And I would love for you to go to school and already have a friend there, and for you to make even more friends. No matter where you go, you’re going to make friends, Harry.”

“I haven’t so far,” Harry mutters.

“Lionel and Therese might disagree,” Sirius points out.

Harry blushes. “I guess.”

“Not I guess,” Sirius says. “You’re going to have plenty of friends. Now, I think we’re expected at Louise’s soon.”

“When can I do the language transference spell?” Harry asks.

“We’ll see what Louise says,” Sirius replies. “It requires someone who’s fluent in French, and I’m not sure who that will be. We’ll figure it out, though. After that, you’ll need to practice your French every day.”

Harry looks uncertain. “Do you think I can?”

“I think you can do anything you put your mind to, Pronglet,” Sirius replies. “Now, let’s get going.”

Once the kids are outside, after Harry’s lesson, Sirius talks to Louise about the transference spell.

She hums. “It would be better if he absorbed the language from a native speaker, one that’s closer to his age. Lionel would be happy to volunteer, I’m sure.”

“I wouldn’t ask that of you,” Sirius begins.

“Oh, I’ll be the one doing the spell,” Louise says with a laugh. “But I’ve done it before. I would have suggested it myself, but not everybody wants to take such a shortcut.”

“Harry would feel more comfortable at a school where he already knows someone,” Sirius replies. “And I will do anything for Harry.”

“You’re a good parent,” Louise tells him. “I can see Harry blossoming each day. Just look at him now.”

They look past the porch and watch Lionel and Harry chasing each other around on their brooms, with Therese shouting at them to get serious and actually play Quidditch, and Sirius laughs.

“I think Therese might kill both of them,” Sirius says with a laugh.

“She’s very serious, and it’s good for her to remember that she’s still a child,” Louise replies.

And then Therese shrieks and starts chasing the both of them, and Harry starts laughing so hard he nearly falls off his broom before he recovers and darts off.

Therese threatens to kill both of them, in French, at the top of her lungs, but Lionel and Harry stay just out of her reach.

Harry is already showing skill on a broom, and so is Lionel. “There’s a junior Quidditch league in Paris that Lionel belongs to,” Louise says. “Perhaps Harry would enjoy participating. It’s competitive, but not overly so.”

“That would probably be good for him,” Sirius admits. “I’m starting to think about getting a place in Paris.”

“You could always come here on the weekends, or in the case of an emergency,” Louise says knowingly.

“I hadn’t really thought about it, but it would allow Harry to have a normal life,” Sirius replies. “To be able to have friends over, or go to their houses, to be involved.”

“I think that’s very wise,” Louise says a challenging light in her faded blue eyes. “I take it that means you are planning to rejoining the world as well?”

Sirius shrugs. “That’s the plan. We’ll see how successful I am at it.”

That night, Louise brings Lionel and Therese over. Lionel is going to spend the night, but Louise and Therese are planning to go home once the boys are asleep, and Louise performs the spell.

Based on the giggles from upstairs, it might be quite some time before Harry and Lionel fall asleep.

“I think Lionel has been longing for a friend this summer,” Louise comments. 

Therese is in the living room, sprawled on the couch, reading a book, disinterested in the boys and the adults.

“I was expecting the language barrier to be more of a problem,” Sirius admits. “But I’m glad that Martin introduced them. I’m not sure Harry’s really had a friend before.”

“I thought as much,” Louise says. “I take it his previous guardian wasn’t a good one.”

“His aunt and uncle hate magic,” Sirius replies bluntly. “They were very unkind to Harry’s parents, and they never should have had custody.”

“And why did they?” Louise asks.

“Because I was an idiot, and I thought getting revenge was more important than taking care of Harry,” Sirius replies. “And then I spent seven years in prison for a crime I didn’t commit—right up until I managed to escape. At that point, I had to capture Peter Pettigrew in order to prove my innocence, and I made off with Harry.”

“He’s clearly very attached to you,” Louise comments, and the way she doesn’t comment on his time spent in Azkaban says that she knows more than he thought. “Martin said he believed you were innocent. He was quite convincing when he was urging me to bring the children to meet Harry.”

“How would he know?” Sirius asks.

Louise shrugs. “I trust his intuition.”

Sirius suspects that he’s not going to get anything more out of her on the matter, so he says, “Can I pour you more wine?”

“Not if I’m going to do that spell,” Louise replies. She cocks her head. “I think they might have finally dropped off.”

They head upstairs, and Harry and Lionel are both asleep in Harry’s bed, facing each other on their sides. Sirius suspects they’d fallen asleep in the middle of whatever conversation they’d been having.

“Like a couple of puppies,” Louise murmurs fondly. “Well, let’s get this done, shall we?”

Sirius is grateful that Louise volunteered to do the spell, and that Lionel agreed to help. If Harry’s French is fluent, Sirius can send him to a French-language school, which will draw far fewer questions.

Harry just isn’t as famous here as he is in England.

Louise murmurs the words of the spell, and Sirius sees the faint silvery thread linking Harry and Lionel.

“I’ve done this spell a couple of times before,” Louise says after they’ve backed out of the room. “He’ll wake up tomorrow knowing the language, but he’ll need to practice if he’s to be able to access it easily. My advice is to use French and only French as much as possible. Harry will catch on quickly. He’s young enough, he might not even think about it first.”

Sirius holds out a hand. “Thank you.”

“No thanks are necessary,” Louise replies, but she shakes his hand. “Get some sleep. I’m sure these two monkeys will be bouncing off the walls in the morning.”

Sirius smiles. “To be honest, I’m looking forward to it.”

~~~~~

The next morning, the boys are just as wild as Louise predicted, and Sirius does exactly as Louise suggested. He speaks only French, and Harry doesn’t miss a beat. There are a couple of times when Harry seems to struggle with finding the right word, but if Sirius or Lionel prompt him, Harry quickly lands on the right one.

Sirius herds them toward the village, hoping to run off some of their energy. They run ahead, and then back to Sirius, and then on ahead again, chattering away like magpies.

Harry is clearly over the moon about being able to speak with his friend without impediment or the need for a translator. And Lionel is just as excited.

Sirius buys them pastries, and picks up a few groceries, and they drop them off at home before they walk Lionel back to his grandmother’s house.

“Will I still have lessons?” Harry asks.

“I think it might take a little time for the language to settle in your brain,” Sirius replies. “And a few lessons won’t hurt you. Besides, you can play Quidditch after.”

Harry shrugs. “Okay.”

By the time they get back home, there’s an owl waiting for them. “Is it from Uncle Moony?” Harry asks, sounding excited about the possibility.

“I don’t know,” Sirius replies. “Let’s find out.”

The letter is, indeed, from Remus, and Remus has a solicitor for him. Sirius isn’t surprised by the recommendation, as it’s Miriam again. Not that Sirius can admit to any of that.

“What does a solicitor do?” Harry asks. He’s on his knees on one of the kitchen chairs, trying to read over Sirius’shoulder.

“They help make sure the legal system is fair for everybody,” Sirius replies. “In this case, she’s going to make sure I get treated fairly.”

“That sounds like a really good job,” Harry comments.

Sirius smiles. “I think it is.”

“Is that something I could do?” Harry asks.

“I don’t see why not, pup,” Sirius replies. “You could do just about anything you wanted. Is that something you’re interested in?”

Harry considers. “I don’t know. I just want to make sure that people get treated fairly.”

“That’s a good goal,” Sirius replies. “Well, I’m going to write back, and send a letter for her.” He pauses. “Do you want to write a letter, too?”

“What would I say?” Harry asks.

“I don’t know,” Sirius replies. “But I thought there might be something you’d want her to know about me, or about why you decided to come with me when I asked you.”

Harry scratches his head. “But you were my best friend.”

Sirius keeps his expression carefully neutral. “How do you mean, love?”

“Well, Padfoot was,” Harry adds. “But he was my very first friend.”

“And I always will be,” Sirius replies, “as well as your godfather.”

It’s moments like this that Sirius thinks everything is worth it. No matter what happens, Sirius will have done something right.

Harry does end up writing a letter of his own, although Sirius has to promise not to read it. He can see Harry’s childish scrawl, although given how much time Harry spends forming each letter, he’s taking extraordinary care with what he’s writing.

Sirius takes his time as well, laying out the bare bones of what had happened to him, what Peter had done, his escape, his capture of Peter, and his taking custody of Harry.

He refuses to refer to it as kidnapping. First of all, he’s Harry’s rightful guardian; second of all, Harry had come willingly.

Letters completed, Sirius allows Harry to put his in the envelope, and then he seals it. “We’ll get this sent off. Now, what do you want to do for the rest of the day?”

“Can we go flying?” Harry asks.

Sirius laughs. “You always want to go flying.”

“It’s a nice day,” Harry protests. “If it were raining, I’d want to read my new books.”

“Fair enough,” Sirius replies. “How about we get out the Quidditch gear, and we’ll see who catches the Snitch first?”

Harry appears absolutely delighted by that idea. Sirius resolves to let him win, and he does, but not by much. It won’t be too long until Harry is beating him without any trouble at all.

~~~~~

There are moments that Sirius wishes the summer could continue on forever, but Harry’s birthday is fast approaching, and Sirius is trying to make appropriate plans. He has a cake ordered from the bakery, and he’s invited their friends from town—Lionel and Therese, of course, but also Martin and Louise. Sirius is toying with the idea of inviting Remus, but when he gets the letter from Miriam, he has a better idea.

“There’s a letter in here for you, too, Harry,” Sirius says, handing him the envelope.

“You aren’t going to read it?” Harry asks.

“It’s your letter,” Sirius replies. “If you want me to read it, I will, but that’s completely up to you.”

He remembers that his parents had never really believed in the concept of privacy for their children, and he won’t do the same thing to Harry.

Sirius begins to read the letter from Remus.

_Dear Padfoot,_

_I’m glad you’re doing this. I think it will be safer for Pronglet overall if you clear your name. I worry about you, you know. You might be innocent, but the rest of the world doesn’t know that, and they should. I talked to Miriam, and she’s willing to represent you. Just do what she says, and I know she’ll get you through this._

_And if you do decide to get a place in Paris, and you want help looking, let me know. I’d be happy to help, and it would be great to see you both again._

_Moony_

Sirius smiles softly. Remus' response is more than he hoped for. He opens Miriam’s letter next.

_Dear Mr. Black,_

_Remus has explained the situation, and I appreciated getting your perspective, as well as Harry’s_ _. He’s quite the articulate young man, and he made a strong case for why he should be allowed to stay with you, and based on what I know of the situation, I happen to agree._

_The first step is to force the Ministry to admit that they have Pettigrew, and that he isn’t the dead hero they claimed him to be. Once they admit that, we can work on forcing them to admit you’re not the traitor or murderer they claimed_ you _to be._

_A word of caution, however. While no one seems to have reported Harry missing yet, the beginning of the school year is rapidly approaching. There’s a very good chance that someone will notice he’s not there. I’d like to move on this quickly. If you agree, send back the contract and make arrangements for the retainer, and I will set the ball rolling._

_ Miriam Rogers _

Sirius really wishes he could stick his head in the sand and just enjoy the summer with Harry, but he knows that Remus is right. He needs to work this out for Harry’s protection.

“What did the solicitor say?” Harry asks.

“She has a plan to make the Ministry admit that I’m not guilty, and make sure that no one can challenge my guardianship,” Sirius replies. “That’s the most important thing to me—making sure you’re safe.”

He clears his throat, deciding that a subject change is in order. “Is there anything else you want to do for your birthday, or anybody else you want to come to your party?”

Harry runs his fingers over the grain of the table. “You don’t have to do anything.”

“We’re having a party,” Sirius says firmly. “Everyone deserves a birthday party, and if the Muggles never gave you one, that just makes them bigger idiots than I realized. Which really should have been impossible, now that I think about it.”

That draws a giggle out of Harry, which makes Sirius smile. “Well?”

Harry hesitates. “Do you think it would be okay if Remus came? He’s your friend, and I think he’s mine, too.”

“He is,” Sirius agrees. “More than that, he’s family. I know he’d want to be here, too.”

“Is it not safe?” Harry asks anxiously.

Sirius isn’t sure how to answer that. “I don’t think that Remus would ever purposely betray us, but if he knows our location, there are people who might try to force him to tell them.”

“Can you make him promise?”

Sirius could put the farmhouse under a Fidelius, but that would limit their guests, and would make it more difficult for Harry to have friends over. Besides, he’s not sure that a Fidelius is necessary right now.

He _could_ ask Remus to swear an Unbreakable Vow to protect Harry, and Remus would do it, but what if Remus thought it was in Harry’s best interests to go back to the Dursleys?

Sirius isn’t naïve. Dumbledore had his reasons for leaving Harry there. He had to know how bad the situation was for Harry, which means there’s something larger at play.

That being said, Sirius simply refuses to put Harry in a situation where he’s unloved and unwanted; Sirius knows all too well the damage that can do.

“I can ask him to promise, but if he’s not comfortable making the vow that will keep you safest, I don’t think he can come here, pup,” Sirius says regretfully. “But we can meet him in Paris later if that’s the case. He’s already offered to help us look for a place there.”

Harry frowns. “So, this place will be like our retreat?”

“Exactly that,” Sirius replies. “Are you okay with that?”

Harry sighs and nods. “I want to stay with you, but I really don’t think Remus would tell anybody where we are.”

Sirius would also like to believe that. “I’ll write to him, and if he agrees, I’ll meet him somewhere else, and he can make the vow. And then he can come here.”

“That seems fair,” Harry agrees.

Sirius needs to find time to buy Harry’s birthday gift anyway, and he’s certain that Louise won’t mind watching him and the other children for an afternoon. He can have the difficult conversation with Remus about what, exactly, he needs to promise if he’s going to come anywhere near the farmhouse.

~~~~~

Sirius doesn’t tell Remus why he wants to meet. He just says that he’s planning to go shopping for Harry’s birthday gift, and Remus is welcome to join him. He gets the confirmation a couple of days later, and heads to Paris the Friday before Harry’s birthday.

“Are you going to talk to Remus about coming for my birthday?” Harry asks, his feet swinging above the floor.

“That’s pretty much the whole reason I’m going, pup,” Sirius replies, amused.

Harry runs a hand through his hair. “Who’s going to watch out for you?”

“I’m going to look after myself until I meet Moony, and then I’m sure he’ll watch my back,” Sirius assures him. “He always has before.”

“But you won’t see him immediately,” Harry says, and Sirius can see that he’s getting worked up.

Sirius sits down next to him. “Harry, what are you really worried about?”

“There might be people looking for you,” Harry protests anxiously.

“No one knows where we are,” Sirius reminds him. “Remember?”

“Louise and Martin do,” Harry counters.

“But they’re not interested in telling anybody where we are,” Sirius says. “And no one other than Remus knows that I’m going to Paris today. No one will have any idea where I am.”

“But Remus will,” Harry argues.

“That’s kind of the point of meeting with him,” Sirius counters.

Harry shakes his head. “I know, but you didn’t trust him before.”

“Nothing is going to happen to me,” Sirius says seriously. “I’m very capable of taking care of myself. I got you here, didn’t I?”

Harry sighs. “Yeah, I guess.”

“I know that you’re worried about me, and I don’t blame you,” Sirius says carefully. “I really appreciate the fact that you care. But it’s my job to worry about you, and I’m never going to do anything that would prevent me from coming home to you, not if I can help it.”

Harry looks a little glum. “Okay.”

“Just as soon as I can, I’m going to get the communication mirrors, okay?” Sirius promises. “And then you can check on me as often as you like when we’re apart—not that it’s going to happen often.”

“You’re going to have fun with Lionel,” Sirius continues. “And your French is coming along really well.”

“Louise thinks so, too,” Harry says, brightening. “She thinks I’ll be able to go to a French school.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Sirius replies, tousling his hair. “And so will I.”

Sirius walks Harry to Louise’s house. “Be good for Louise, Pronglet. I’ll see you tonight.”

“If you get held up, just send a message,” Louise says with a wink, coming out to the porch and putting an arm around Harry’s shoulders.

Sirius glances significantly at Harry. “I doubt anything is going to require my attention overnight.”

“Life is short,” Louise tells him. “And if your friend decides to visit over the weekend, I’m sure Harry wouldn’t mind staying here.”

Harry seems alarmed by that, and Sirius says, “It’s a little early for that, but we do have a bedroom ready for Remus if he decides to visit.”

Louise chuckles. “Very well. Enjoy your day.”

“I’m sure I will,” Sirius replies. “I’ll see you later, Harry.”

He apparates to Paris, near the edge of the wizarding district, and then heads to the same café where he met Remus before. This time, he’s the first to arrive, and he gets a table outside, stretching his legs out in front of him, and ordering a pot of coffee.

The day is warm, and Sirius is wearing Muggle clothing—jeans and a t-shirt—which are cooler than wizarding robes would be—at least without a cooling spell.

But Sirius has always kind of enjoyed experiencing the Muggle world, and that includes wearing Muggle clothing, with all its discomfort.

Although he draws the line at not using a warming charm when necessary.

Sirius sees Remus coming, and he’s dressed much the same way as Sirius, in a maroon t-shirt and denim, and he looks good. His head is up, his hair is windblown, and he has color in his scarred cheeks.

When he sits down in the chair across from Sirius, he grins, and Sirius feels as though his heart is being squeezed in a giant fist.

“Hi,” Remus says.

“Hi.” Sirius knows he probably sounds like an idiot. “How are you?”

“I’m great,” Remus replies. “That remedy you provided has worked wonders.”

“I’m really glad to hear it,” Sirius replies sincerely. “You’re looking good.”

Remus smirks at him. “I’m feeling good.”

Sirius swallows. “I’m glad.” He’s a bit at a loss for words, feeling Remus’ interest. It reminds him of being in Swansea, when they both knew they were stealing time. Or of the time when Remus had been with him in France, helping him get custody of Harry.

But this is different, and Sirius feels wrong-footed.

Remus gives him a sharp look, and Sirius remembers that Remus has always known how to read him. “Is this okay?”

Sirius leans over the table, gripping Remus’ forearm. “Of course, Moony. I’m glad to see you.”

There are times when it’s hard to keep the lives he’s lived straight in his mind, hard to keep Remus’ role straight—is he Dumbledore’s man, who doesn’t believe that Sirius is capable of caring for Harry, or at least isn’t able to do so as well as someone else? Is he Sirius’ co-conspirator, fully on board with clearing his name and helping him change the world?

Or is he someone else altogether in this different time and place?

Sirius has never known Remus in 1988. He’d been in Azkaban, after all, and neither of them had spoken much about those years, even when they had the opportunity.

Remus tilts his head, as though to get a better look at Sirius. “I guess we haven’t really spoken much, at least beyond logistics and Harry.”

Sirius realizes that this outing feels like a date, and he wonders if that’s what Remus had read in his letter—the offer of a day out, away from small ears, and an opportunity to speak freely.

Well, it is that, at least. Of course, it is.

“No, I suppose we haven’t,” Sirius admits. “I really thought you’d disapprove of my actions, you know.”

Remus hums. “Well, I might have except the Ministry has done absolutely nothing with Peter, so far as I can tell. I checked with Shacklebolt, and Peter’s still in custody, and the unofficial word is that he’s a marked Death Eater. Your escape isn’t in the news, and no one seems to want to catch you, probably because they’d have to admit their mistake. And no one seems to have noticed that Harry’s gone missing.”

That sums up the problem quite neatly.

“At least I know where Harry is,” Remus adds. “Although Dumbledore did write me a note, wondering if you’d mentioned where you were heading after dropping Peter off with me.”

Sirius snorts. “So, you think he’s figured it out?”

“I think he probably wants to get Harry safely back where he belongs before anybody figures out that he lost him in the first place,” Remus says dryly. “And I could quite honestly tell him that you’d mentioned the Black Manor and nothing else.”

Sirius rubs at an imaginary spot on his jeans. “And do you want to keep it that way?”

“I don’t know,” Remus admits. “But I’m getting the sense that you would like to talk about something related to your location, and you don’t think I’m going to like it.”

Sirius watches a family walk by—a man and woman with a small girl between them, holding hands. He _wants_ that. He wants nothing more than to be a family with Harry, and he feels they’ve made a good start, but there’s something missing.

He’s pretty sure it’s Remus.

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” Sirius replies slowly.

“Well, that doesn’t bode well,” Remus teases.

Sirius gives him a look, but he knows it’s affectionate. “Dumbledore would have had a good reason to put Harry with the Dursleys, beyond the fact that he was hidden. If he wanted to hide Harry in the Muggle world, he could have chosen a different family, maybe with a Squib, but one who wouldn’t have been—”

“Awful?” Remus suggests when Sirius trails off.

“Quite awful,” Sirius agrees. “Someone who would have known about magic, and could have explained accidental bouts of magic, and at least told Harry the truth about his parents.”

Remus leans forward. “What _did_ they say about James and Lily?”

“That James was a failed magician, and they died in a car accident, with the insinuation it had likely been their fault,” Sirius replies bitterly. “You know how Petunia felt about Lily, and her husband was worse about James.”

He still remembers his conversation with Lily after they’d met Petunia and her fiancé, how upset she’d been, how angry James had been.

Remus growls under his breath. “What…”

“You wouldn’t say anything I haven’t already thought,” Sirius says, reluctantly amused.

Remus runs a hand through his hair. “Have you come up with a reason that Dumbledore would have left him there?”

“I think Lily’s sacrifice put Harry under a blood protection, and Dumbledore built on that,” Sirius replies slowly. “The goblins indicated as much when I went to establish myself as the owner of the Black family vaults.”

Remus frowns. “Did you take the blood oath?”

“I did at the bank,” Sirius replies. “Lily hadn’t wanted my godfather oath to possibly interfere with what she was planning.”

“So, you could build a similar blood protection on your godfather oath,” Remus muses.

“Right, that’s kind of what I was hoping,” Sirius agrees. “I’m just not sure Dumbledore will agree. And it’s possible that there was something else to it, as well.”

“What are you really worried about, Padfoot?” Remus asks gently. “I’ve seen Harry. He’s happy with you. When I spoke with Miriam, she said she was charmed by his letter and how fervently he argued that he ought to be able to stay with you.”

“I’m worried that Dumbledore will have a very good reason to send Harry back to the Dursleys, and that people will agree.” Sirius won’t quite meet Remus’ eyes.

“And by ‘people,’ you actually mean me,” Remus replies, and Sirius can hear the bitter disappointment in his voice. “You don’t trust me?”

“I trust you,” Sirius insists. “Of course, I trust you! I called you, didn’t I?”

“But you think I’m going to betray you, and betray Harry,” Remus says, clearly angry.

Sirius sighs. He knew this conversation wasn’t going to be pleasant. “No, I think you’ll do what you think is best for Harry, and that might not mean staying with me.”

Remus leans back in his seat, his expression moving from anger to concern. “Then why are you so convinced that Harry ought to be with you, if you think Dumbledore might have a reason for Harry staying with his aunt and uncle?”

“Because I know what it’s like to grow up in a home where I’m unwanted and unloved, and I don’t want that for Harry,” Sirius replies. “I know what that does to a person.”

Remus puts a hand over Sirius' where it’s resting on the table. “And _that’s_ why Harry should stay with you. Maybe there’s some protection Harry gets from staying with them, but it won’t touch the care that _you_ can give him. I’ve seen that for myself.”

Sirius swallows. “It means a lot that you’d say that.”

“I mean it,” Remus replies. “So, what do you need me to do?”

“Take an Unbreakable Vow,” Sirius replies. “I want to find a place in Paris, but I want to keep the place we’re staying a secret from all but a few. I just don’t want to put it under a Fidelius.”

“Too restrictive,” Remus agrees, “particularly for Harry.” He pauses, and then nods slowly. “I’ll do it.”

Sirius blows out a breath. “Thank you. Harry really did want you at his birthday party.”

Remus smiles. “I’m glad. I got the feeling that he wasn’t too sure about me.”

“I’m not sure he liked the idea of sharing me,” Sirius admits.

“I’m not surprised by that, given what he’s been through,” Remus replies.

Feeling greatly daring, Sirius says, “You could come stay with us for the weekend if you wanted.”

“I would like that,” Remus replies and squeezes Sirius' hand. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re doing really well with him.”

“Thanks.” Remus withdraws his hand, and Sirius feels the loss keenly. “I was going to check out the school for Harry,” Sirius says. “Do you want to come with me?”

“Of course,” Remus replies.

Sirius had made an appointment in the hope that he could kill two birds with one stone, and they head over to Lionel’s school. It’s an old stone edifice that looks distinguished, and even without children running around, it’s not hard for Sirius to see Harry here.

“It looks nice,” Remus murmurs.

“It does,” Sirius replies. “Lionel has been telling Harry how great it is.”

Madame Barre meets both of them with a brisk handshake. “Monsieur Black, I presume.”

“I’m Sirius Black,” he replies. “And my friend, Remus Lupin.”

“Monsieur Lupin,” she says, pronouncing his name in the French way. “I understand that you’re interested in enrolling your godson at our school.”

“You were highly recommended by Lionel Devries,” Sirius replies with a smile. “And his grandmother confirmed that it was a good school.”

Madame Barre laughs freely. “Oh, Louise? She is a lovely woman. Lionel always comes back to school talking about spending a summer with her. Therese did the same when she was a student here. Louise taught here before she left to run the village school, you know.”

“I didn’t know,” Sirius admits. “But that does make me feel good about enrolling Harry here. She’s been giving him French lessons.”

“And he’s fluent?” Madame Barre presses. “Because other than our English classes, all of our lessons are in French.”

“Louise did a language transference spell recently, and she assures me that Harry will be ready when school starts,” Sirius replies. 

Madame Barre nods. “It’s a tricky spell to do, but someone his age is easily able to absorb the language, and it’s the fastest way to get a child ready for school when he needs to speak another language to do so. There aren’t many English-speaking schools here that I would recommend, at least not for magical children.”

“I heard that you accept Squibs here, as well as magical children,” Sirius comments.

“There’s no sense in separating a child from their siblings, even if they don’t have magic, and it’s good for magical children to be exposed to the non-magical world,” Madame Barre replies. “Given what you said in your letter, I think Harry will do quite well here, and we’ll prepare him for the magical school of your choice.”

She gives them a tour of the campus, pointing out various classrooms, and other points of interest, such as the auditorium, the cafeteria, and the sport field.

“We believe that physical education is important, but there are no official school sports at this age, of course,” Madame Barre explains. “Academics are our primary focus.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Sirius replies. “Since Harry attended a Muggle primary, I’m afraid I don’t have access to his records.”

“We’ll have him sit for an exam,” Madame Barre, “which we would have done anyway to ensure he was in the right year.”

Sirius glances at Remus, who’s still looking around with interest. “It seems like a very good school,” Remus says after a moment’s silence.

“Why don’t you bring Harry in for a visit before school starts, and we can give him the examination?” Madame Barre replies. “He can have a tour and see where all his classes will be, so he can start knowing his way around a bit.”

“I think he’d really appreciate that,” Sirius replies.

He’s satisfied with the school, and that it’s a good option for Harry. He arranges for the tuition to be paid from his Gringotts vault, grateful that the school allows for that option.

“I liked the school,” Remus comments once they’ve left, and begin walking towards the wizarding shops to look for Harry’s birthday present. “Now, you just have to find a place to live.”

“I was going to contact an agent to help with that,” Sirius replies. “But I’d like to find a place that’s big enough for the three of us, in case you ever stay over.”

Remus gives him a look. “I hope we don’t need to have this conversation again.”

“It’s not charity if you’re staying on the couch in my office,” Sirius replies. “And it’s definitely not charity if you’re in my bed.”

Remus laughs. “I think you’re feeling lucky.”

“I am,” Sirius admits. “Louise offered to keep Harry for the weekend if I wanted to have you over.”

“I don’t think we’re there yet, but I would like to stay with you over Harry’s birthday,” Remus replies. 

Sirius nods. “What are you doing right now?”

“Right now? I’m with you.” Remus offers a smirk.

“You know what I mean,” Sirius replies with an eye roll.

“This and that still.” Remus shrugs. “The Wolfsbane has been invaluable. For the first time, I’ve been able to hold a job past the six-month mark. I really can’t thank you enough.”

“It’s the least I could do for a friend,” Sirius replies sincerely. “I hope you know I’d do just about anything for you.”

“You have to put Harry first, and I understand that,” Remus replies. “But yes, I do know.”

Sirius finds a broom servicing kit for Harry, and Remus buys books, including a book on the history of the Hogwarts’ founders with moving pictures.

Sirius chuckles when he sees the book. “Trying to tempt him?”

“He’ll have enough people telling him that Beauxbatons is the place he should go, and he should know something about Hogwarts,” Remus says somewhat defensively.

“I know,” Sirius replies. “And I’m hoping that if he hears enough stories about where we went to school, Hogwarts will stand a chance.”

Remus smirks. “You know, the student body at Beauxbatons is mostly female.”

“I’ve heard that Madame Maxime is a formidable woman,” Sirius counters. “Thanks for meeting me today.”

“I’m glad we were able to talk,” Remus replies. “Tell me where to meet you next Friday, and we’ll do the Vow, if you can find a witness.”

“Louise or Martin can witness,” Sirius says. “Just go to Martin’s shop in the village.”

“I’ll meet you there on Friday,” Remus promises. “What time?”

“How about 3 in the afternoon?” Sirius asks. “You can have dinner with us. I can’t promise that it will be any good, and it certainly won’t be fancy, but it might be fun.”

“I’ll be looking forward to it,” Remus says.

They don’t kiss, but there’s a moment that turns electric when Sirius thinks that it might happen.

“Tell Harry I say hello,” Remus says, and then apparates away.

Sirius smiles and feels just a little bit better about everything.

When he picks Harry up, it’s after he’s hidden Harry’s gifts at their house, and the sun is starting to set. Sirius is whistling as he walks up the gravel path to Louise’s house.

“Sirius!” Harry shouts, running out to greet him.

Sirius picks him up and swings him around. “Did you have fun today, pup?”

“Yep! Louise says my French is as good as my English now!” Harry says.

Considering that Harry had been speaking French without realizing it, Sirius would say so. “I can tell. You’re speaking French right now.”

Harry giggles. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s good practice, especially for your new school,” Sirius replies.

Harry’s eyes go wide. “My new school?”

“Remus and I visited Lionel's school today, and I think you’re really going to like it,” Sirius replies. “You can visit in a couple of weeks. Madame Barre needs you to take a test, so you’ll be in the proper year, but it isn’t a big deal.”

Harry looks a little worried. “Should I study?”

“Nope, this is just based on what’s already in your head,” Sirius replies, tapping Harry on the forehead. “And Remus says hello, by the way.”

“Is he coming to my party?” Harry asks.

“He is,” Sirius replies. “He’s coming next Friday, and he’ll stay the weekend, if that’s okay with you.”

Harry nods. “I’m glad you get to have a friend staying, too.”

Sirius runs an affectionate hand through Harry’s hair. “Well, let’s go in and say goodbye to Louise and the others, and then we can head home, okay?”

Harry grins. “Louise made fish tonight!”

“Did you like it?” Sirius asks.

“It was really good,” Harry agrees.

Louise has a glass of wine, and she holds up the bottle in silent invitation. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay for a drink?”

Sirius hesitates, but he would speaking to another adult about the conversation he had with Remus. “Do you mind, Harry?”

“We were reading when we heard you coming,” Harry says. “I don’t mind.”

“Go on with you,” Louise says. “And thank you for your help with dinner tonight, Harry.”

Harry blushes, pleased with the praise. “You’re welcome.”

“He’s a very good boy,” Louise says.

“I like to think so,” Sirius replies.

Louise pours him a glass of wine. “And how did your meeting go?”

“As well as I had hoped,” Sirius replies. “He was angry right at first when I tried—probably very badly—to explain why I wanted him to take an Unbreakable Vow.”

Louise grimaces. “He didn’t think you trusted him.”

“I trust him to do what’s best for Harry,” Sirius replies defensively. “I just wasn’t sure whether he’d think staying with me would be in Harry’s best interests.”

Louise snorts. “Of course, it is. A child should be with someone who loves him.”

Sirius suspects that Harry had let some additional information drop. “I’m sure you’ve heard stories about Dumbledore.”

“Ah, yes, I have,” Louise says, and doesn’t add any additional comments.

“You don’t think much of him?” Sirius asks.

“I don’t know him, so I wouldn’t presume to say anything,” Louise replies. “But anyone who would think that Harry shouldn’t be with you is an idiot, and I don’t care how good of a wizard they’re supposed to be.”

Sirius laughs. “That’s what Remus said.”

“Do you need a witness for the Vow?” Louise asks.

“I do, but if you can’t do it, I think Martin probably can,” Sirius replies.

“I’m happy to do it for you,” Louise replies. “Anything to keep Harry safe.”

Sirius smiles. “He is a charmer, isn’t he?”

“He’s a delightful child,” Louise says. “And he deserves to have a happy life, which I’m sure he’ll have with you.” She pauses, and then asks with a sly grin, “And is your friend staying with you next weekend?”

“That’s the plan,” Sirius admits. “It was—well, it’s been a long time.”

Her expression goes soft and sympathetic. “I’m glad you were able to work it out, and I look forward to meeting him.”

~~~~~

Sirius gets word midway through the week that Miriam had been able to break the news of Peter’s capture and his Death Eater status to _The Daily Prophet_. She’d even done Sirius the courtesy of sending him a copy of the paper.

“What does that mean?” Harry asks, looking over Sirius' shoulder.

“It means that everybody knows who betrayed your parents,” Sirius replies. “And that it wasn’t me. We’ll see where we go next, but it appears that Miriam is as good as her word.”

“Will you have to go back to England?” Harry asks.

“Not if I can help it,” Sirius says lightly. “Do you want to go back to England?”

Harry shakes his head emphatically. “I like it here.”

“Good,” Sirius replies. “Then we’re on the same page. Now, since Remus is coming to stay this weekend, I think we should clean the place up a bit, don’t you?”

Harry sighs loudly, but there’s a smile on his face, and he doesn’t complain as he helps Sirius scrub the kitchen, wash the bedding and hang it out to dry, and otherwise get the place spic and span.

Sirius is a bit biased, maybe, but Harry really is about the best kid. The more time Sirius spends with him, the more of Lily he can see in Harry. He has his mother’s heart.

“Do you think Remus will like our house?” Harry asks a little anxiously.

“With all the hard work you’ve put into it?” Sirius replies. “I think he’s going to _love_ it.”

Harry flushes with pleasure. “When are we meeting him?”

“He’ll be here tomorrow, pup,” Sirius replies. “We’ll walk down and meet him at Martin’s store.”

Harry is clearly excited and anxious, and probably not just because Remus is visiting. Sirius suspects that Harry isn’t too sure about his birthday party, having never had one, and having no good experiences with being the center of attention.

But Sirius will offer as many reassurances as Harry needs, and he thinks Harry will enjoy his party. Next year, Harry will have more friends, Sirius is sure, and he’ll have a bigger party.

Gradually, Harry will understand that just as he was his parents’ entire world, he’s Sirius’ as well.

The next day, he and Harry make breakfast together, with Harry flipping the bacon, and Sirius frying the eggs. Sirius has just about mastered the toasting charm, so the bread doesn’t burn and instead is a nice golden brown. Today, it’s just a little bit charred

“It’s getting better,” Harry says encouragingly. “And I don’t mind it a little bit burnt.”

“Good thing,” Sirius replies, “because it usually is.”

Harry shrugs. “I didn’t have to make all of it.”

They make short work of breakfast and the dishes, and then they head over to Louise’s. Harry is just about done with French lessons, he’s that fluent, but he’s starting to review Lionel’s homework, just to get familiar with the material. It helps that Therese has summer homework as well, because Harry and Lionel don’t mind doing some school reading.

Sirius doesn’t want Harry to work too hard, but he also thinks it’s good for him to get used to having some work during the summer holidays, since he’s likely to in the future, no matter where he goes to school.

As soon as they get through Lionel’s reading, they’re on their brooms, though. Therese is right behind them, and Sirius joins in.

Harry and Lionel are coming along very nicely, and Therese is showing a lot of promise as a Keeper.

“You’ll do well on your house team this year,” Sirius tells her when they break for lunch. They’re speaking in French consistently now, because it’s easier, and it’s good for Harry to practice.

Therese grins brightly. “Thanks to you! I don’t think anybody will have had as much practice as I have. Harry and Lionel would be ready for a team their first year, if they were allowed to play.”

“We aren’t allowed to play first year?” Harry asks, clearly disappointed.

Sirius pats him on the shoulder. “First year is hard enough as it is, Harry, and there’s plenty to get used to without worrying about Quidditch, too. I knew some good Quidditch players who refused to play in school because they were focused on academics.”

Harry frowns. “How come?”

“Quidditch is fun, but if you want an academically challenging class load, it’s probably better not to play,” Therese admits. She seems to have taken a bit of a shine to Harry, acting like his big sister.

“I’m going to play Quidditch professionally!” Lionel announces, bouncing from foot to foot, still full of energy.

Therese rolls her eyes. Her patience with Harry doesn’t extend to her little brother. “You’re not good enough.”

“I will be!” Lionel protests.

“Maybe,” Therese says, so dubiously that it speaks volumes about her faith in his abilities. “Besides, Maman and Papa wouldn’t approve.”

Lionel sighs loudly. “They’ll want me to follow them into government.”

Therese shrugs. “Perhaps you could be Minister of Sport or something.”

Harry glances up at Sirius. “What did my parents want?”

“For you to be happy, and to do something that you enjoy,” Sirius replies, thinking that James and Lily hadn’t been able to do the same thing for themselves.

Harry murmurs. “I really want to make them proud.”

“That’s a given, Pronglet,” Sirius replies. “Don’t worry about that.”

Louise has made a picnic, so they eat outside under an old tree in the front yard. Harry is flushed with the sun and pleasure in the day.

Sirius has a glass of wine with Louise, leaning up against the trunk of the tree, as Therese continues to tease Lionel about his Quidditch prospects.

“What position would you play?” Therese asks. “You’re too slow to be a Seeker, and your aim isn’t good enough to be a Chaser.”

“Maybe I’ll be a Beater,” Lionel shoots back. “I’ll aim the Bludgers for your face! It would be an improvement.”

“Now, children,” Louise says mildly.

That’s all she needs to say, since both children immediately mumble apologies to each other. Harry is watching in fascination, probably because he’s never watched siblings fight and then make up in the next breath.

Sirius thinks it’s good for him to see that sort of interaction, just as it’s good for him to have a friend like Lionel, and a big sister like Therese.

“I’m sure you’ll all be brilliant at whatever it is you decide to do,” Louise adds. “And Lionel, you have a few years to get better before trying out for a house team. And you’ll have summers to practice, both of you will. Therese, are you going into town with us today?”

Therese shrugs. “Can I go to the newsstand?”

“You may,” Louise replies. “I’ll even given you the money for a magazine.”

Lionel rolls his eyes. “I can’t believe you like those stupid magazines! The pictures don’t even move.”

“I don’t mind non-magical magazines,” Harry comments mildly. “I didn’t know pictures _could_ move until I came to stay with Sirius.”

Lionel bumps Harry’s shoulder with his own. “Yeah, but you couldn’t help it. You were staying with Muggles. Therese _could_ read _Witch Weekly_.”

“That English rag,” Therese sniffs. “And before you say it, I like Muggle movies, too.”

“I do, too,” Harry admits. “When I got to see them, anyway.”

Sirius makes a mental note to make sure to take Harry to the movies when he gets a chance. He’s not as familiar with the Muggle world, but it wouldn’t hurt Harry to maintain an acquaintance. After all, most wizards and witches aren’t familiar with the Muggle world either, and it’s an easy place to retreat in a pinch.

“I like them, too,” Lionel says, although maybe only because Harry had said it first. “Papa takes us sometimes. You could come with us if you were staying in Paris.”

“We will be,” Sirius replies. “I have an agent looking for a place near the school.”

He’s been saving that tidbit for the right moment, and Harry lights up. “We’ll be staying near the school?”

“During the school year, unless we decide to come here on the weekends,” Sirius promises. “Within walking distance of the school if I have my way, and we find the right place.”

“I’ll miss seeing the two of you on a regular basis,” Louise says. “But I hope you’ll be here for holidays.”

“Of course,” Sirius replies. “We’ll need to come back regularly to keep up the place, and for Harry to practice his flying.”

“Maybe Lionel will come with you to visit,” Louise says mildly. “That would be nice.”

Sirius suspects that she misses her grandchildren during the school year, and enjoys the noise and fuss when they’re around.

There’s nothing to clean up after their picnic, and they have time to play a little more Quidditch before they have to head into town.

They walk into town with more than enough time to meet Remus, which gives them time to stop at the small village newsstand. It’s a Muggle shop, so it’s all French newspapers and magazines, but there is a small collection of comics, which Harry makes a beeline towards.

Lionel might not have much respect for Muggle publications, but with a Muggle-born parent, he has a familiarity with it, and he and Harry both like the comics.

Sirius picks up a car magazine and keeps an eye on Harry, knowing that Harry won’t ask for what he wants. When it comes time to meet Remus, Sirius snags a couple of the comics that Harry had shown a particular interest in, and pays for them with the francs he keeps on him.

“Therese, you and Lionel can do what you like for the next little bit, I have some business to take care of with Sirius that’s private,” Louise says.

“Why can’t we come with you?” Lionel whines. “We won’t be in the way!”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t be,” Louise replies. “And you’re still not coming, because it’s _private_. If Harry chooses to tell you about it later, he may, but you won’t hound him for information, you hear?”

There are murmurs of assent, and Sirius admires Louise’s control. She doesn’t have to say much, but she’s immediately obeyed. There’s respect, but no fear.

“We’ll be done soon,” Sirius promises.

Martin is waiting for them with Remus, and they’re chatting amiably about Remus’ recent travels as a courier for a rare book dealer.

Remus smiles broadly when he sees the Sirius and Harry. “Hello, you two. Happy birthday, Harry.”

“It’s not until tomorrow,” Harry reminds him, suddenly appearing shy.

“And I’ll tell you the same tomorrow,” Remus replies. He holds out a hand to Sirius, who bypasses the hand for a hug.

Remus holds him tightly. “It’s good to see you again so soon.”

“It’s good to see you, too,” Sirius replies, gripping the back of Remus’ neck and pressing their foreheads together. “I’m glad you came.”

“My pleasure,” Remus replies. When Sirius lets go, he turns to Harry. “How are you, Harry?”

“I’m good,” Harry says with a shy grin, holding out a hand to shake. “Thank you for coming.”

“Thank you for having me,” Remus replies.

“Louise, my friend, Remus Lupin. Remus, Louise Bouchard,” Sirius says, making the introductions.

“A pleasure to meet you, madame,” Remus says. His accent is a little rough, but not too bad, and he can at least speak French fluently.

“Call me Louise,” she invites. “I’ll be witnessing your Vow today, so I think we should be on a first name basis.”

Remus chuckles. “Fair enough.”

“This will be Harry’s first time witnessing a spell of this sort,” Sirius tells Martin. “If you could explain things to him, I would appreciate it.”

“Of course, my friend,” Martin replies.

Harry frowns. “Is it dangerous?”

“Not at all,” Sirius hastens to assure him. “This is for Remus’ protection, as well as ours. If Remus makes a vow on his magic not to tell anybody where the farmhouse is, they won’t try to force it out of him.”

Sirius doesn’t mention the fact that someone could try to torture it out of Remus, but he won’t worry Harry. Sirius knows all too well the effects that torture can have on a person.

Harry seems relieved. “Oh, that’s good.”

“This will make you safer, Harry,” Remus says. “I’m happy to do it.”

Louise rubs her hands together. “Let’s get started. Sirius, do you have the language of the Vow?”

The language of an Unbreakable Vow is important. Too broad, and it can tie up a person’s magic unduly. Too narrow, and it doesn’t do much good.

Sirius hands Remus the parchment that he’d scrawled the Vow on, and Remus quickly scans it and nods. “I’m satisfied with the language.”

Louise reads the Vow, and nods. “I’m willing to stand as witness.”

The Vow itself is fairly specific—Remus will promise never to give away Harry’s location to anyone who means him harm, and he will never tell anyone the location of the farmhouse.

Sirius hadn’t wanted to hem Remus in too much, and Remus clearly doesn’t have a problem with the language.

“Watch carefully, Harry,” Martin murmurs. “This is a very special kind of magic. An Unbreakable Vow is just that—it is a promise that they would sooner lose their magic than bring you to harm. It’s protection, and it’s love.”

Remus grasps Sirius’ hand, and Louise pulls her wand. Louise begins the spell, and Remus makes the Vow.

“I swear that I will never reveal Harry’s location to anyone who means him harm,” Remus begins. 

As he speaks, the bonds begin to form around their wrists, and Sirius feels the pressure of the Vow. It will tie him and Remus together, united in their desire to protect Harry, and Sirius can’t say he minds that.

“I vow to protect Harry Potter with my life, no matter the threat,” Remus says at the end, and that hadn’t been part of the Vow.

Sirius looks at him, and Remus smiles crookedly.

“The Vow is good,” Louise states.

“Are we good?” Remus asks.

“We’re more than good,” Sirius replies. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I did,” Remus replies. “I needed you both to know how serious I am about this.”

Sirius has no doubts about Remus at this point. “Let’s go home, shall we?”

And it feels really good to say that.

~~~~~

The next morning, Sirius lets Harry sleep in, and he makes a full English for Harry’s birthday—eggs, sausages, fried tomatoes, beans, and toast—and Remus appears in the middle of it. “You can actually cook.”

“I had to learn some time,” Sirius jokes. “But yes, I can cook. A little. Breakfast seems to be my strong suit.”

“I’m impressed,” Remus replies. “I do like the house.”

“I know,” Sirius replies. “You told Harry as much yesterday.”

“He was just so chuffed,” Remus replies. “And he’s doing so well.”

Sirius grins. “I think so, too. He’s excited about going to school.”

“That’s good,” Remus replies. “You’ve done really well with him.

Sometimes Sirius wonders if he’s done very well at all, and hearing that from Remus means a lot.

“Thank you.”

“Sirius, Harry is happy, and he’s happy with you,” Remus says. “He’s flourishing.”

Sirius takes a breath and leans against the kitchen counter. He wouldn’t have been able to do so well with Harry if he hadn’t had so many experiences. He’s lived several lifetimes, and he had Remus’ support in the past. Maybe not every time, but enough.

Even though he’d been in Azkaban not that long ago, he had a break that helped a lot.

“I want to do the right thing for him,” Sirius says in a low voice. “That’s all I want.”

“He’s happy and healthy, and that’s the important thing,” Remus replies. “So, what do you have planned for today?”

“Everyone is coming over later for a party,” Sirius replies. “And by everyone, I mean pretty much everybody you’ve already met.”

“They all seem quite fond of Harry,” Remus comments.

Sirius smiles. “They are. They’ve been very kind. I wasn’t sure if there would be any children around here for Harry to play with, but he’s made a great friend in Lionel.”

“Have you heard any more from Miriam?” Remus asks.

“Not yet, but I expect to hear something soon,” Sirius replies. “She did send a copy of _The Daily Prophet_ that talked about Peter.”

“It’s about time the Ministry started acting,” Remus mutters. “I’d have been a lot more public about bringing Peter in if I thought it would take this long for them to break the news.”

Sirius shrugs. “Their delay gave us time to settle in here, so I’m not upset. Do you want coffee or tea?”

“I’ll take tea,” Remus replies.

Sirius starts the kettle and says, “Harry will be down as soon as he hears that whistle.”

Harry wanders down as soon as the kettle goes off, pretty much like every morning. Sirius hands Remus a box of tea and grabs the instant coffee for himself. Harry’s wearing his cut-offs and a t-shirt, his feet bare and his hair a mess, as usual.

“Are you hungry, pup?” Sirius asks.

Harry nods emphatically. “It smells really good.”

“Set the table,” Sirius replies. “And I’ll put the food on. Have a seat, Moony. You’re our guest this morning.”

Harry sets the table willingly, and Remus sits down with his tea.

Sirius puts a cup of tea out for Harry as well, with plenty of room for milk and sugar. “You might want to change before our guests arrive this afternoon.”

Harry looks down at his clothes. “How come?”

“It might be nice to dress up a bit for your guests,” Sirius replies. “But it’s your party. You can wear what you like.”

Harry pouts a bit. “I’ll change.”

Sirius has found that suggestions work better in situations like this one, probably because his aunt and uncle hadn’t used anything _other_ than orders.

“At least it’s a nice day,” Remus says. “What are you going to do at your party?”

Harry shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“There’s cake, and ice cream,” Sirius replies. “Beyond that, it’s pretty much up to you, Harry.”

“We can go flying?” Harry asks.

“Like I said, it’s up to you,” Sirius replies. “Which means you don’t have to dress up too much. Just wear some of your newer clothing that we ordered from Martin.”

“All right,” Harry agrees a little more cheerfully.

“I have a tent to put up in the front yard,” Sirius says. “Moony, you want to help?”

“I’m at your disposal,” Remus replies.

Sirius remembers the tent from when he visited in the summers. His grandparents would put it up for special occasions to provide shade, and it doesn’t take long for them to get it up. He and Remus start on the decorations—a happy birthday sign and streamers that hang down from the roof of the tent.

When Harry comes out and sees it, his eyes go wide. “Oh.”

“How does it look?” Sirius asks.

“Really good,” Harry replies. “It’s for me?”

“I don’t see anybody else here named Harry,” Sirius teases. “You look nice.”

He’s wearing a pair of new shorts and a collared shirt, plus new trainers. “Thank you,” Harry replies.

“Let’s start getting everything else together,” Sirius says.

They’re doing mostly finger foods, plus the cake and ice cream, which Martin is bringing. Remus willingly pitches in to get the lunch spread ready.

Sirius is pleased with how everything is coming together. Louise is the first to show up with Lionel and Therese, carrying wine for the adults and fizzy lemonade for the kids. Lionel and Therese have their brooms over the shoulders, and they’ve no sooner arrived than all three kids are in the sky.

“That didn’t take long,” Remus comments. “Harry was always a natural on a broom.”

Louise raises her eyebrows. “Oh, really?”

“Sirius gave Harry his first broom when he turned a year old,” Remus explains. “I’m fairly sure that Harry was flying before he could properly walk.”

“That would explain a great deal,” Louise replies.

Martin is the next to arrive with the cake and ice cream under a stasis spell. Sirius pours him a glass of wine, and they sit and nibble, and watch the kids chase each other around on their brooms.

It’s a beautiful day—warm, but not too hot, the sun bright, and a gentle breeze to keep them comfortable, especially in the shade from the tent. On a day like this, Sirius feels fully present and incredibly grateful. He could still be stuck in a cell in Azkaban, or moldering away in Grimmauld Place.

He enjoys the conversation with the adults, too, and as much as he loves Harry, he appreciates being around grownups.

Remus seems to be enjoying the conversation as well. Martin has a few stories about his own exploits during the war, and Louise has stories from her years as a teacher, and a few others from her days fresh out of school as a curse-breaker, before she met her husband and settled down. Remus joins in with some of his own tales about his travels, and Sirius just lets the sound wash over him.

Eventually, the kids get hungry, and they come back down to eat after washing up. Sirius cuts the cake and serves the ice cream, and they all sing happy birthday to Harry in French. Harry blushes furiously, but he seems pleased by the attention now that he’s getting it.

The gifts are relatively small—the broom servicing kit from Sirius, books from Remus and Louise, a set of toy dragons that move on their own from Lionel, a toy Quidditch set from Therese, and a smart, new jacket from Martin.

Harry is clearly overwhelmed by everything, though, and seems surprised to receive any presents at all. He’s quietly and sincerely grateful for each gift, and when he’s opened all of them, Harry and Lionel begin to play with the new toys, and Therese pulls out her ever-present book.

By the time Louise rounds up her grandkids to leave, the sun is starting to set. Martin left a few hours before, and Harry starts to droop with exhaustion. “Do you want to eat something, Pronglet?” Sirius asks.

Harry shakes his head. “I’m not hungry.”

“Then why don’t you head on up to bed?” Sirius suggests. “You look like you’re about ready to drop.”

Harry hugs him hard. “This was the best birthday ever, Padfoot.”

“I’m glad to hear that, Harry,” Sirius replies, holding him tightly.

Sirius can see Remus’ surprise when Harry hugs him as well. “Thanks for coming, Uncle Moony.”

“Thank you for inviting me,” Remus replies gently. “Happy birthday, Harry.”

“You already said that,” Harry says.

“It bears repeating,” Remus teases him. “Good night.”

He and Remus retreat to the kitchen, and Sirius makes them each a cup of tea. “I think that went well.”

“If you’re fishing for compliments, you don’t need to,” Remus replies, smiling. “It went very well indeed, and I think Harry was pleased.”

“Other than his first birthday, I’m pretty sure this was the only party he’s ever had, so it was a low bar to clear,” Sirius replies, self-deprecatingly.

Remus shakes his head. “Don’t be too hard on yourself. This was the first time you threw a party for Harry, and he had a good time.”

Sirius changes the subject. “How long can you stay?”

“I have to be back at work the day after tomorrow,” Remus admits. “If I want to keep my job, that is.”

Sirius can’t argue with that. “Are you still up for looking at apartments with us?”

“Just let me know when,” Remus replies. “And yes, I’m happy to help.”

Sirius leans back in his chair. “It was really good to have you here.”

“It was really good to be here,” Remus replies. “Thank you for trusting me with him.”

“It was never you I didn’t trust,” Sirius replies. “But I expect that Dumbledore will be contacting you again about Harry’s location.”

Remus shrugs. “And I’ll be able to tell him that I’ve taken an Unbreakable Vow. He doesn’t have the right to take Harry from you, Pads.”

“Maybe not, Moony, but that doesn’t mean he won’t try,” Sirius replies glumly.

“Chin up, Sirius,” Remus replies. “Miriam is on the job.”

“I appreciate your faith.”

“What else do you need?” Remus asks. “You seem tired.”

“It just feels like it’s been a long road,” Sirius admits. “And this is the first time I’ve had a moment to realize just how long of a road it’s been.”

Remus drains the rest of his tea. “Come on.”

“What?” Sirius asks.

“You need to sleep,” Remus replies. “And you’ll sleep better if I’m there. Am I right?”

Sirius nods, thinking that he might not have nightmares if Remus is in his bed. “Aren’t you always right?”

“I’m glad you finally realized that,” Remus jokes. He wraps an arm around Sirius’ shoulders, and he gently ushers Sirius into his bedroom.

They both strip down to their pants; it’s a little too warm to sleep in pajamas, especially with another person in the bed. Remus spoons up behind him, wrapping an arm around Sirius’ chest.

“Sleep,” Remus orders. “You’ll feel better in the morning.”

And Sirius does.

~~~~~

The next morning, Sirius wakes slowly, a little confused to see how bright his bedroom is. He’s usually awake earlier than this, and then he remembers that he’d gone to bed with Remus, and he’s alone now.

Sirius rolls out of bed, feeling better rested than he has in a while. He pulls on the first clean clothing that comes to hand and wanders downstairs. He finds Remus and Harry sitting at the table in the kitchen, both of them with open books and the dregs of tea and breakfast.

“Good morning,” Remus says, glancing up with a smile. “I think the kettle is still hot.”

Sirius makes a cup of coffee, and snags a croissant from the counter. It’s a bit stale, and Sirius casts a warming spell, which helps.

Harry offers a quick smile, but he’s clearly focused on the book on Hogwarts’ founders, and Sirius smiles. Remus’ plan appears to be working.

“Did you sleep well?” Remus asks.

Sirius nods. “Better than I have in a while.”

“Good,” Remus replies. “I think I might head back this afternoon, but let me know when you’re going to be looking for a place in Paris.”

“I will,” Sirius promises.

“I thought you were going to stay with us,” Harry protests.

Remus shakes his head. “I have a job that I have to get back to, but I’ll come back to visit soon.”

“You should come back a lot,” Harry declares. “Sirius likes it when you’re here.”

Sirius can’t quite believe that Harry is matchmaking, but he’s amused by it. Remus’ expression suggests he’s just as amused.

“I will do my best,” Remus promises.

Harry nods, as though that takes care of it, and Sirius thinks it’s probably a good thing that Harry trusts that Remus will do as he says.

They spend a quiet day at home until it’s time for Remus to leave, and he gives Harry a hug before he goes. He hugs Sirius, too, and Sirius holds him tightly.

“Hang in there,” Remus murmurs. “You’re doing great. And let me know when you hear from Miriam again.”

“I will,” Sirius promises.

Sirius feels a bit of a letdown after Remus leaves, but he tries not to let it show. Harry doesn’t need to worry about him.

“Is everything okay?” Harry asks.

“Everything is fine, Pronglet,” Sirius insists. “I’m just missing Remus already.”

“Maybe he should stay with us when we’re in Paris,” Harry replies guilelessly.

“I’m working on that, pup,” Sirius replies. “We’ll see what happens.”

Later, Sirius will be grateful that they at least made it through Harry’s birthday before things got hectic.


	3. Part the Third: In Which Dumbledore Makes An Appearance

The first sign of trouble is a letter from Remus, which arrives just a few days after he leaves the farm.

_Padfoot,_

_Don_ _’ t be alarmed, but you were right. Dumbledore contacted me, and he wants to meet this coming weekend. I’m fairly certain that he’s going to ask me where Pronglet is, or he’ll ask for my help finding him. I’ll meet him, but once I tell him about the Unbreakable Vow, he’ll probably ask someone else to help, or he’ll be sending you an owl. I’ll keep you updated._

_Moony_

“Is everything okay?” Harry asks.

“Everything is fine,” Sirius assures him. “Why don’t we go into town and get something for dinner?”

When in doubt, distract with food, Sirius has learned. Harry is still making up for the years of deprivation, and Sirius is still making up for his time in Azkaban.

“When are we going to Paris?” Harry asks.

“Next Thursday,” Sirius replies. “We’ll tour your new school, and get your uniforms ordered, and Madame Barre will determine what year you’ll do best in.”

“Is Uncle Moony gonna join us?” Harry asks.

“I don’t know, but I hope so,” Sirius replies. “We‘ll just have to see.”

Sirius feels a little antsy after receiving Remus’ letter, although he’s grateful that he’s had this much time with Harry without interference. It’s more time than he thought he’d have without someone trying to regain custody.

The weather takes a turn for the worse that week, too. If it’s not raining, the sky is threatening rain, which keeps them from flying. Harry, while very well-behaved, likes being cooped up inside about as much as any other energetic eight-year-old boy.

“When is the rain going to stop?” Harry whines a couple of days later.

Sirius sighs and reminds himself to have patience, because if Harry’s whining, it means that he’s feeling comfortable enough with Sirius to test the boundaries.

“I don’t know, Harry,” Sirius says. “It could be another day or two.”

Harry sighs. “Okay.”

“Do you have any books left?” Sirius asks.

“Lionel gave me his old history book,” Harry replies.

The language transference spell works well for spoken language, but less well for written, and Harry is still getting up to speed. “Why don’t you use the book Remus gave you to practice your French?”

“I guess,” Harry sighs and trudges to the study.

Sirius runs a hand through his hair, and then pulls it back. He’s waiting to hear from Miriam, because he’s sure she would have talked to Remus already.

He expects the owl that taps at the kitchen window, and he opens it quickly. He recognizes it as Miriam’s, and he removes the waterproofed letter from the owl’s leg. Sirius grabs a couple of owl treats, and the owl gobbles them up, and then settles on the kitchen sink, tucking its head under its wing.

_Dear Sirius (and Harry),_

_We‘ve run into a brick wall at the Ministry. I’m not sure what the problem is, but once the news of Pettigrew’s betrayal broke, all forward momentum stopped. I’ve been contacting various people I know at the Ministry, as well as reporters at _ The Daily Prophet _, but someone is blocking us._

_If I had to guess, there’s someone at the Ministry who’s very interested in ensuring your innocence does not become a fact. I_ _’ m going to keep working at it, but it’s going to take more time than I thought._

_ Miriam _

Sirius can guess who’s behind it, and he’s a little worried. He’s been working hard at building a new life here for him and Harry, and he knew it wouldn’t be easy. Really, he’s only surprised it’s been this easy so far.

He writes Miriam back to let her know that Dumbledore contacted Remus, and wanted to meet with him, probably to get Harry’s location.

Sirius is a little concerned about their trip to Paris. Very few people know where they are, and those that do wouldn’t volunteer that information to strangers. They won’t have that same protection in a city like Paris.

Sirius is wondering whether they should postpone their trip, but he doesn’t want Harry to worry, and they do need to get everything worked out with the school.

He’s expecting Remus’ letter, telling him how the meeting with Dumbledore had gone, and Sirius gets worried when the weekend comes and goes with no word from Remus. He knows that Harry is picking up on his concern, even though Sirius is doing his best to minimize it.

The nightmares certainly aren’t helping. He keeps dreaming of the Dementors finding them, or of Remus being Pettigrew and knowing that he was going to die, and the Potters were going to die, and there was nothing he could do to save them.

Sometimes, he dreams about falling through the Veil again, but this time there are no doors, only a cold, gray emptiness that has no end.

And then Harry starts asking whether Remus is going to meet them in Paris pretty much every day, since he knows they haven’t received another owl, and Sirius’ patience wears thin in spite of his best efforts.

“I don’t know, pup,” Sirius says wearily. He’s certain that his lack of sleep shows. “Why don’t we go over to see Lionel today? It looks like it’s going to be a nice day.”

They could use the distraction, and after a few days of rain, Harry could certainly stand to get outside and burn off some energy now that the weather is fine again.

Hell, so could Sirius.

“Yeah, okay,” Harry says desultorily.

They take their brooms with them, and walk to Louise’s. The road is muddy, but the sun is out, and it will soon bake the road into its customary hardness. They walk along the grassy shoulder, and Harry asks, “Is it bad?”

“Is what bad?” Sirius asks.

“Whatever gave you bad dreams,” Harry replies, staring at the ground.

“There are a lot of things that give me bad dreams,” Sirius admits. “I’ve lived a very full life.”

“But is there something else?” Harry asks.

Sirius knows that he needs to be honest with Harry, at least to a certain extent. “I don’t know, Harry. I’m a little worried because we haven’t heard from Remus yet, and there’s someone we used to know who might want you to go back and live with your aunt and uncle.”

Harry appears alarmed. “But I want to stay with you!”

“You’re not going back to them,” Sirius insists. “There are a lot of things I can do to make sure that you stay with me. Remember going to the bank, and I took that blood oath? That’s what it means.”

“Okay,” Harry replies sounding calmer, and Sirius only hopes that he’s worthy of that trust.

An afternoon spent with Louise and her grandchildren is exactly what they need, and they’re both more relaxed by the time they head home in time for dinner.

He’s more than a little bit surprised to see Remus on the front porch, looking somewhat disheveled. “Moony?” Sirius calls. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” Remus says wearily. “I would have written, but I didn’t want to risk it being intercepted.”

Remus would know how to evade pursuit. They’d all learned those lessons the hard way during the war, and Remus would also know how easily a message could be diverted. But the fact that Remus is here now, looking as though he had a narrow escape, tells Sirius that something has gone very wrong.

“Uncle Moony?” Harry says, his expression apprehensive.

“Everything is fine, Harry,” Remus replies, summoning up a smile for him. “But I might have to stay with you two for a bit, if you’ll have me.”

Harry is a bright boy, and he immediately knows that something has gone wrong, but he puts a brave face on. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Thank you,” Remus says gravely.

“Are you hungry?” Sirius asks. “I’ll put something together for dinner.”

“Sure, if I’m not imposing on you too much,” Remus replies.

“You’re never an imposition, Moony,” Sirius says fondly, pushing aside his worry. They can’t and won’t talk about this with Harry around.

He remembers when they’d brought Harry home in that other lifetime, when Remus had put sandwiches and soup together, and Harry had been so angry about the unfairness of it all.

Tonight, he finds eggs and bread and sausages, so he makes French toast and fries up the sausages. Without being asked, Harry puts the kettle on for tea, and Remus gratefully drinks a cup of chamomile.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Uncle Moony?” Harry asks, sitting down at the table next to Remus.

“I’m fine,” Remus insists. “But we’re going to need another source for my medicine.” He gives Sirius a significant look.

Sirius grimaces. “I don’t have a potions lab set up here, although I probably should. We’ll check in with Martin tomorrow. How long do we have?”

“I have enough for this month, and I need to start taking it before the next full moon. That gives us a couple of weeks to find someone to brew it with a little time to spare,” Remus replies.

Sirius has made Wolfsbane often enough that he’s pretty sure he can do it. It’s complicated, but he and Lily had worked out the bugs together, and the recipe and instructions are essentially muscle memory at this point.

“We’ll take care of it,” Sirius promises. “I’m pretty sure I can handle it. It’s the one potion I’ve practiced so often that it’s nearly second nature.”

“Are you sick?” Harry asks Remus innocently.

“Remember when we talked about Remus being a werewolf?” Sirius asks. “He needs the medicine to make it safe for him to be around us.”

“You wouldn’t hurt me,” Harry says confidently.

“I wouldn’t want to, and I certainly wouldn’t mean to, but a werewolf isn’t in his or her right mind during the full moon, unless they take the Wolfsbane potion,” Remus explains.

“But the medicine makes you feel better?” Harry asks.

“A lot better,” Remus assures him. “Don’t worry about me, love.”

Harry’s chin tilts in a way that’s all too familiar. “I can worry about you. You’re family.”

Remus smiles. “So I am. Thank you, Harry. I’ll be fine.”

Remus seems to recover a bit as he eats, cheering up once he gets some food in him. Sirius has never really had the opportunity or desire to cook for someone before, but he understands it better now. It feels good to be able to take care of someone he loves.

It’s clear that Harry doesn’t want to go to bed, probably sensing that he and Remus are going to talk after he’s asleep. Sirius indulges him to a certain extent. There’s an old wizarding chess set in the house, and Remus patiently teaches Harry how to play.

When he’s nodding over the board, Sirius sends Harry to bed, even over his protests. “Remus will still be here in the morning,” Sirius promises. “And we’ll tell you whatever we can, okay? Do you want me to do the teeth cleaning charm?”

Harry nods sleepily, and Sirius casts the charm. “Goodnight, pup,” Sirius says, tousling Harry’s hair. “Go on now.”

Harry hugs Remus tightly, and then trudges upstairs, slowly enough that Sirius suspects he’s hoping to overhear something.

Sirius smirks at Remus, who smirks back, and they wait until they hear the footsteps end and the sound of Harry’s door closing.

“What happened?” Sirius asks. “And can I get you something stronger than tea?”

“I would take it,” Remus says quietly. “As for what happened, Dumbledore knows you have Harry, and he’s not terribly happy about it.”

“I knew that would happen,” Sirius replies. “But that doesn’t explain why you’re here looking like something the dog dragged in.”

“Very funny,” Remus says dryly. “Dumbledore wanted to know where you were, and I explained that I’d taken an Unbreakable Vow for your safety and Harry’s. He made what he thought was a very compelling argument as to why it’s important for Harry to stay with his aunt and uncle. I pointed out that I’d still made a Vow, and I couldn’t tell him where you two were, at which point a couple of Aurors showed up to arrest me for accessory to kidnapping.” Remus sighs. “So, I came here.”

“How did you escape?” Sirius asks, pouring a couple of fingers of fire whiskey for the both of them.

Remus shrugs. “I took some precautions, just like I did during the war. I had a portkey with me, and I had a bag with a few necessities stashed in a safe location. From there, I chain apparated here.”

“I hate that you got caught up in this, Moony,” Sirius says.

Remus snorts. “I don’t. Dumbledore said that he used Lily’s blood sacrifice to create more powerful blood wards around his aunt and uncle’s house. As long as Harry can call that home, he’ll have that extra protection, but as you’ve said, Harry’s mental and emotional well-being are just as important. I just wish Dumbledore could understand that.”

“Can’t we put up similar wards here?” Sirius asks.

“Not precisely,” Remus hedges. “You said the goblins were able to transfer some of the blood wards to you after your oath. I think Dumbledore built his warding on kinship, though. He hinted that Voldemort wouldn’t be able to physically touch Harry if he stayed with his relatives.”

Sirius snorts. “There are a number of ways to hurt someone, Moony, and Voldemort had plenty of followers. Those wards won’t do Harry much good against the Death Eaters.”

“I did point that out,” Remus admits. “But Dumbledore seems to think that none of them would be able to navigate the Muggle world well enough to find Harry.”

Sirius has to admit that’s a fair point, and entirely possible.

Remus frowns then. “But what I don’t understand is why Dumbledore is so certain that Voldemort will return.”

Sirius sighs. “It’s the blasted prophecy, the one that sent James and Lily into hiding. Dumbledore—well, if I had to guess, he wants to give Harry the physical protection of the blood wards to give him a chance to grow up. But I think he’s being short sighted.”

“To put it mildly,” Remus agrees. “I mean, if Harry’s fated to face Voldemort again, and there’s nothing we can do to stop it, then why not ensure he has as happy a life as possible?”

Sirius has a terrible feeling that he knows exactly why, and it’s to ensure that Harry is willing to lay down his own life when the time comes.

“Because the end of the prophecy says something like ‘neither can survive while the other lives,’” Sirius replies grimly.

Remus blows out a breath. “Bugger me.”

“Happy to,” Sirius replies, but it’s half-hearted.

Remus rolls his eyes, but there’s the hint of a smile on his face. “Dumbledore is going to try to interfere.”

“Based on what Miriam’s said, I suspect that he’s already done so,” Sirius says. “Miriam says that she hasn’t been able to get anywhere even now that Peter is considered the traitor.”

Remus leans back in his chair. “For fuck’s sake. I _told_ Dumbledore that he was lucky you were the one to come by. If it had been a Death Eater who had been kind to Harry, he’d be dead.”

“Did you tell Dumbledore how the Muggles treated him?” Sirius demands, and then stops. “Of course, you did. You were probably very eloquent, and Dumbledore still thought he knew best.”

“To be fair, he probably had a plan, and it might have been a very good one,” Remus points out. “But as we both know, it’s easy to lose sight of the trees if all you’re looking at is the forest, and vice versa.”

Sirius had always been one soldier in the war against Voldemort, focused more on his assigned mission than overall strategy. Dumbledore had been the one who knew where all the pieces were on the board.

Sirius doesn’t want that for Harry, though. Harry is a person, not some wizard’s pawn in a game that will likely get him killed.

“What are we going to do?” Remus asks.

Sirius finishes up his drink. “Right now? We’re going to bed, and I’m going to cuddle _you_ for a change. We can wait until tomorrow to figure out the rest.”

Remus tosses back the rest of his own drink. “I can get behind that plan.”

“You sure you don’t mind hanging around here?” Sirius asks.

“Better than Azkaban by a long way,” Remus replies. “And having spent some time with Harry, I want to get to know him better. You’re right. He’s all we have left of James and Lily.”

Sirius freezes for a moment. He doesn’t think he’s ever said that to _this_ Remus. He remembers those words coming out of his mouth when Harry had been a baby, and he’d been trying to spirit Harry away.

“Something wrong?” Remus asks.

“Just someone walking over my grave, I think,” Sirius replies, trying to laugh it off.

“Are you sure?” Remus is giving him a concerned look.

“Positive,” Sirius replies. “Let’s go to bed.”

~~~~~

Harry wants to know why Remus has decided to stay with them the next morning, which doesn’t surprise Sirius at all.

“It’s just safer for Moony to stay with us for now, pup,” Sirius reassures him. “Remember when I said that no one knows we’re here, and no one in the village will say anything to anybody? Right now, Remus needs that, too.”

Harry frowns. “Did someone try to hurt you?”

Remus smiles. “No. They just wanted me to tell them where you were.”

“But you promised not to!” Harry protests.

“Not everybody respects a promise like that,” Sirius replies. “But it all worked out, didn’t it? Remus is here, and we’re all safe, and we’re going to stay that way.”

“Are we still going to Paris?” Harry asks.

Sirius glances at Remus. “What do you think?”

“I don’t see any reason why not,” Remus says mildly. “If we notify Miriam immediately, she might be willing to meet with us while we’re there.”

“Good idea,” Sirius replies. “I’ll send an owl.”

Harry glances between them. “They don’t know we’re in France, right?”

“I certainly didn’t say anything,” Remus replies. “As far as they know, you and Sirius are on one of the Black properties in England.”

“Who’s looking for us?” Harry asks.

Sirius grimaces. He doesn’t really want to tell Harry that it’s Dumbledore, because Harry might still go to Hogwarts one day. Sirius doesn’t know how he feels about the old wizard at the moment, and he wants Harry to be able to draw his own conclusions.

As far as Sirius is concerned, Dumbledore might have the best plan in the world for dealing with Voldemort’s return, and he probably thinks he has very good reasons for leaving Harry with the Dursleys. But Sirius has a duty as Harry’s godfather to make sure he’s safe and loved, and so he doesn’t much care about Dumbledore’s plans.

“It’s someone who knew your parents,” Sirius replies after he gets a shrug from Remus. He’s walking a fine line between giving Harry age-appropriate information, and not telling him enough. Sirius suspects that had Harry not been kept so much in the dark, he never would have gone to the Ministry half-cocked on a mission to save Sirius.

Hell, if Sirius had disobeyed Dumbledore’s orders and sat Harry down and been completely honest with him—well, things might be very different right now. He can’t say he’s sorry about the outcome at the moment, but it could have been much worse.

Sirius sits down at the table and pushes the plate of perfectly-brown toast towards Harry. “We’re out of eggs, I’m afraid, so we’ll have to go into town today.”

Harry opens his mouth, probably to protest the lack of information, but Sirius says, “I’m going to tell you, but you need to give me a minute, Harry. It’s not a simple story.”

Harry subsides and takes a piece of toast.

Sirius takes a deep breath. “You remember how I told you about your mom and dad, and where we all went to school?”

“Hogwarts,” Harry says quickly. “Uncle Moony gave me a book about the founders. It’s really good.”

Sirius smiles. “That’s right, Pronglet. The headmaster of Hogwarts is Albus Dumbledore, and he’s a very powerful wizard. He defeated another dark wizard named Grindelwald before I was born.”

“What does that have to do with me?” Harry asks.

“Good question,” Sirius replies. “Because he defeated a dark wizard before, a lot of people thought he could defeat the wizard who killed your parents.”

“But you said I did that,” Harry replies. “That he died because he tried to kill me, and Mom protected me.”

“That’s exactly right,” Sirius agrees. “But some people think he’s going to come back, and I think that, too, and Dumbledore wants to make sure that if he does come back, someone will be able to defeat him.”

“I don’t understand,” Harry replies.

Sirius takes a deep breath. “Sometimes, when people are really smart, and they want to help a lot of people, they lose sight of individuals.”

Harry still looks confused, and Remus asks, “Harry, if you thought that it might be possible to save a hundred people if you killed one person, would you do it?”

“You mean, I have to kill one person to save a hundred people?” Harry asks, clearly giving the question serious thought.

“No, I mean you know that one hundred people are in danger, and you think that killing one person will remove the danger,” Remus replies.

Harry frowns. “I’d find a way to save the hundred people. Killing one person just because you _think_ people are in danger is dumb.”

Remus smiles. “That’s fair. But what if you _knew_ a hundred people were in danger, and you believed that letting one person get hurt would prevent it?”

“Just hurt?” Harry queries.

“Just hurt,” Remus agrees.

Harry shakes his head. “I don’t know. It would depend, I guess.” And because he’s a bright boy, and he’s Lily and James’ son, he immediately gets it. “He thinks that it would be better if I stayed with my aunt and uncle for some reason, even if it hurts me?”

“We think that’s correct, although he’s never said it so bluntly,” Sirius agrees.

“Is he right?” Harry asks.

Sirius knows he needs to tell Harry the truth. “I don’t know, Harry, but that’s the thing. I don’t want you to be hurt, and I think we can probably find another solution. I might be wrong about that, but I’m willing to risk it.”

“Dumbledore doesn’t know you, Harry,” Remus adds. “He doesn’t really know what it was like for you at your aunt and uncle’s house. He thinks physical protection is more important than emotional protection. Do you understand?”

Harry nods slowly. “Is he right?”

“No, he’s not,” Sirius replies. “My parents weren’t very good to me, and I know what that does to a person, pup. The way your aunt and uncle treated you wasn’t right, and I’m not sending you back there, not even if it meant saving the entire world.”

Harry smiles, pleased. “Okay.”

“What I want you to remember is that people can have the best possible intentions, and the overall goal might even be something that you believe in, too,” Sirius says quietly. “But you might know something they don’t, or have experiences that they don’t. That doesn’t make them a bad person, just a person who can’t see the trees for the forest.”

Harry appears confused, and Remus adds, “When you make decisions that affect a lot of people, you have to be able to understand how your choices affect everybody as a whole, as well as individual people.”

“Like, he might hurt Remus because he thinks it’s safer for me to be with the Muggles, but he doesn’t think about how that would affect me, or Sirius, or you, because he’s too focused on making sure the bad wizard can’t hurt me?” Harry asks.

“That’s exactly right,” Sirius replies. “And you can call him Voldemort. That’s his name.”

“Voldemort,” Harry says.

“Good lad,” Remus praises. “You’re absolutely on the right track.”

“So, Dumbledore isn’t a bad man, but he’ll hurt you to get to me,” Harry comments. “Why should I go to Hogwarts?”

Sirius glances at Remus, who sighs. “I don’t know, Harry. I’m hoping that he’ll change his mind when he has all the facts, but we don’t know that he will,” Remus admits. “Right now, he doesn’t know where we are, and he can’t hurt us.”

Harry shrugs. “Okay.”

“We‘re going to get this figured out,” Sirius promises him. “And we’re going to make sure that no matter where you want to go to school, you can go there, and you’ll be safe.”

“And if it’s not safe to go to Hogwarts?” Harry asks.

“I don’t know, pup,” Sirius admits. “I’m going to be disappointed, because I loved Hogwarts, but there are plenty of good schools out there.”

Harry hesitates. “Therese is going to Beauxbatons, and Lionel will go there, too.”

“And that’s also a good school,” Sirius replies, unwilling to denigrate any school where Harry might end up going.

“Right now, we don’t have to worry about it,” Sirius adds. “We’re going to Paris this week, and get you introduced to your new school. You wouldn’t go to a magical school until you’re eleven, and that gives us three years to get it figured out, right?”

Harry nods. “Okay. That’s plenty of time.”

“That’s what I think, too,” Sirius agrees. “And hey, worst case scenario, you stay here, and Remus, Louise, and I will teach you.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” Harry admits.

“You might think differently when you’re eleven, but I’m glad you know it’s an option,” Sirius replies.

Later, when they’re walking into the village, and Harry is running ahead of them, Sirius says, “I think that went well. What do you think?”

“I think you did the best that you could,” Remus replies in a low voice. “I don’t think Dumbledore has really considered the fact that Harry might already be attached to you.”

“Or to you,” Sirius replies. “I’m pretty sure if he’d bunged you up for kidnapping, Harry never would have forgiven him.”

Remus smiles. “He reminds me of Lily in that way. Once she’d given her friendship, she was loyal as the day is long unless you crossed her.”

“She really was great, wasn’t she?” Sirius asks with a nostalgic smile. “I’m pretty sure she ruined me for women.”

Remus snorts. “I never really knew about you.”

“Girls were easier and fully expected,” Sirius admits. “But you were the constant in my life, Moony. James was, too, but in a very different way.”

“I would hope so,” Remus replies with a laugh. “I’m not sorry to be here, Pads. It’s a beautiful place, and the company can’t be beat.”

“It’s good to have you here,” Sirius admits. “I’ve missed you.”

Remus just smiles and lets their hands brush together.

~~~~~

Sirius had wanted Remus to be there with them, but mostly because he remembers how nice it was to have him there before. They didn’t have the chance to get into a routine with Harry, but they fall into one easily enough now.

He and Remus switch off cooking, and Remus is patient with Harry and a good teacher. Sirius knows how much he enjoys children and teaching, and Harry loves the attention.

Another kind adult just reinforces that Harry deserves that sort of attention.

Sirius sets up the potions lab in the cellar and makes up an ingredients list so he can brew more Wolfsbane, and they clear out an upstairs bedroom for Remus for his use during the full moon. Sirius agrees to put a lock on the outside to ensure that curious children don’t enter.

It’s everything Sirius wanted.

“I think we should get you more clothes,” Sirius comments as Remus gets dressed the morning they plan to head to Paris.

Remus gives him a look. “I don’t need more clothes.”

“You absolutely do,” Sirius argues. “You barely have any, and the ones you do have are not in the best shape. Since I got you into this mess, I should be the one to help you out.”

“It’s not your fault,” Remus protests.

“It might as well be, and I have plenty of money,” Sirius replies. “If I can get my name cleared, I can probably give you a job of some sort, or help you find one.”

“I’m fine,” Remus insists, then sighs. “But if you insist, I would accept the help.”

“Then we’ll take care of it while we’re in Paris,” Sirius replies. “Your clothes, Harry’s school, and a place to live.”

“Did Miriam reply?” Remus asks, shrugging into his old, threadbare jacket. It had probably been black at one time, but is now a dark, patchy gray, with a fraying collar.

“Yes, and she couldn’t make it, so I said we would meet her there next week. She said she’s still working on a few things,” Sirius replies, adjusting the sleeves of his shirt. He figures he’d best look the part today, and so he’s wearing slacks and a button-down shirt that won’t look out of place in either the wizarding or Muggle areas of Paris.

Remus nods. “That’s something. I’d like to know what my options are.”

“If they’d thrown you in Azkaban, I’d leave Harry with Louise, and I’d turn myself in,” Sirius says. “I’m just glad it didn’t come to that.” The very thought has given him nightmares. He’d survived Azkaban with his sanity (mostly) intact because of his animagus form. Remus wouldn’t have that protection.

Remus shakes his head. “I wouldn’t ask you to do that. Harry needs you.”

“You’re my friend, and I wouldn’t leave you to pay for my mistake,” Sirius replies. “Let’s just be grateful it’s a moot point.”

“I think I can agree with that,” Remus replies.

They apparate to Paris, to an apparition point in the wizarding section near Gringotts. Sirius makes arrangements for Harry’s tuition and ensures he has enough money for clothing and other supplies, and then they head to the school.

Madame Barre meets them at the gate. “Monsieur Black, Monsieur Lupin, it’s good to see you again. And this must be Monsieur Potter.”

Harry holds out a hand politely. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Madame Barre.”

“Your French is very good!” she praises. “Come, first the tour, and you can ask any questions you like. Then we’ll see what the best year is for you.”

Sirius might be just as nervous as Harry, mostly because he wants to Harry to do well and to _feel_ that he’s done well. “Just do your best,” Sirius says. “That’s all that matters.”

Harry nods. “Okay.”

He seems a little reluctant to go with Madame Barre, but at least Sirius has Remus to keep him company while waiting. Sirius probably could have gone to run an errand, but he doesn’t want to risk leaving Harry alone.

Remus seems to understand that Sirius isn’t interested in talking, and they just sit in companionable silence. After a little bit, Remus reaches out and rests a hand on Sirius’ knee, and Sirius leans into him just a bit.

By the time Harry emerges with Madame Barre, Sirius’ leg is jiggling nervously. In some ways, it doesn’t matter what year Harry winds up in for primary, because all magical children start school when they’re eleven. In other ways, Sirius feels like it would be good for Harry’s self-confidence if he could be in Lionel’s year.

Madame Barre has a hand resting on Harry’s shoulder. “He did quite well, Monsieur Black. I’ll want to talk to you more later, but I think Harry will fit best in Lionel’s class. He might need some tutoring, but I expect him to catch up quickly.”

“I’ll defer to your expert knowledge,” Sirius replies. 

He knows that Lionel is about eight months older than Harry, and the French school system is just different enough to the English system that Harry’s placement had been an open question.

“Harry will do well with a challenge, I think, bright boy that he is, and he’s done very well with the language, much better than I anticipated with a language transference spell,” Madame Barre admits.

“I’m glad it worked as well as it did,” Remus admits. “I know it doesn’t always.”

“Well, Louise would be the best at it,” Madame Barre replies. “Monsieur Black, why don’t we set up an appointment for next week to talk about Harry’s educational plan? I need a little time to review the results.”

“I’ll owl you,” Sirius promises. “It will probably depend on how successful we are at finding a place here in Paris, but we’ll find the time. I have another meeting in Paris next week anyway.”

Sirius doesn’t mind going back and forth; he knows they’ll be doing a lot of that in the years to come, should all go according to plan.

“Of course,” Madame Barre replies. “My schedule is fairly open next week.”

“Let’s go get something to eat,” Sirius says. “And then we can take care of Harry’s uniforms, and Remus’ wardrobe.”

They find a small bistro near the school to eat lunch, and then head to a local wizarding tailor for Harry’s uniforms. The uniforms are smart—dark gray trousers, white shirts, gray blazers with red piping, and sweaters with the same color scheme.

“You’ll look very nice,” Sirius says as the tailor finishes taking Harry’s measurements.

Harry grins. “Better than my old uniform.”

“I’m sure these will fit better,” Sirius replies, suspecting that Harry had mostly worn Dudley’s cast-offs for school as well. 

“That’s why it will be better,” Harry agrees, and then hops down when the tailor motions for him to get off the high step.

“Your turn, Moony,” Sirius says.

Remus sighs. “Let’s get this over with.”

Remus barely has the clothes on his back, and while he’s agreed to let Sirius buy him a few items, Sirius plans on doing much more than that.

Sirius hands over half the payment for the clothing, and gives the tailor instructions on what Remus will need just before leaving the shop. Based on Remus’ expression, he knows exactly what Sirius has done, but Sirius doesn’t view it as charity, but rather a repayment for Remus’ faith and support.

From there, they head to meet their leasing agent, and Sirius warns Harry, “I know this is going to be pretty boring for you, pup, but it’s partly your decision, too. I want you to have a say in where we live.”

Harry nods. “Okay. I won’t whinge.”

“Good man,” Sirius replies, giving him a quick hug. “We’ll get through this together.”

Sirius has provided the agent with their requirements, and told him he wanted to live near the school for Harry’s sake, with at least two bedrooms and a study. He remembers his small flat in London, and he loved that place, but he needs something big enough for the three of them.

The first few places they look at are immediately discounted. The first is too small and dark, the second too far from the school for Harry to walk if the weather is bad. The third only has one large bedroom, with the other bedroom so small and dark and cramped that Harry shakes his head immediately when he sees it.

The fourth flat is promising, though. There’s an open loft that’s large enough to make a good bedroom for Harry. There’s a large bedroom that will do for a master bedroom, and a second bedroom that will work nicely as a study.

The whole place is light and airy, and there’s a tiny balcony that looks out onto a quiet residential street. “Harry, what do you think?” Sirius asks.

Harry climbs the stairs up to the loft, and peers out the small window, which still lets in quite a bit of light. “I like it.”

“You think you’d like sleeping up there?” Sirius asks.

“Definitely,” Harry says. “Can I?”

“Well, let’s see if we can reach an agreement on the rent and timing,” Sirius replies.

The agent is eager to finalize the deal. Sirius gets the feeling that it’s been a little too large, and a little too expensive to garner much interest. It’s also in a quiet area, where there aren’t many restaurants or cafes. 

Sirius doesn’t care about that, however. He can’t help but notice how taken Harry is with the loft, probably because it’s as far as he can possibly get from a cupboard under the stairs.

Remus seems a little bemused by it all, but one look at Harry is probably all the reminder he needs that it’s Harry’s opinion that counts the most.

“You could move in as early as next week,” the agent says eagerly. “As you can see, it’s ready for you, since it comes partly furnished.”

Sirius has to admit that’s part of the charm. He’ll want to get some of the furniture out of the Black vaults, but there’s already a table just off the small kitchen, a couch and a couple of chairs, and beds in the bedrooms.

“I’ll let you know tomorrow,” Sirius says. “I’d like to talk it over with my friend and my godson.”

“Of course,” the agent replies. Sirius has already forgotten his name, but the man will at least be getting a good commission if Sirius chooses this place.

It’s late enough in the day that it’s time for dinner, even if it’s an early one. Harry had been very well mannered, and Sirius makes sure to reward him by ordering a large ice cream to finish out the meal.

“Thank you for your patience today, Harry,” Sirius says. “I know it was a long day, and you held up very well.”

Harry grins at him. “I liked that last apartment.”

“So did I, but it doesn’t hurt to make people wait sometimes,” Sirius replies. “Moony? What did you think?”

“It was gorgeous, and you know it,” Remus replies. “And my opinion shouldn’t count.”

“But you’re staying with us,” Harry protests. “You should get a vote, too.”

“From the mouths of babes, Moony,” Sirius says, and when Harry glares, he amends, “Or from the mouths of almost-grown-up young men.”

Harry applies himself to his ice cream again. “It would be nice to have the backup,” Sirius adds. “We don’t know what their next move will be.”

Remus sighs. “True. I’d hate to get caught unawares again.”

“Then it’s settled,” Sirius replies. “I’ll have a word with the account manager, and we’ll get the rent taken care of and some appropriate furniture moved out of the vault to round out what’s already there.”

Sirius isn’t surprised to see Harry’s head start to droop halfway through his massive dessert, and Sirius waves over the waiter to pay, while Remus moves the ice cream out of the way in case Harry face-plants.

Harry is nearly out, and doesn’t even protest when Sirius picks him up. “We’d better get him home.

Sirius had arranged for a portkey, knowing that the day would likely be long and exhausting for everyone. He’s glad he did, because Harry barely stirs even with the disruption of the portkey, and Sirius carries him upstairs to his bed. A murmured charm has Harry out of his clothes and into his pajamas with a wave of his wand, and that’s done.

He finds Remus sitting on the edge of the bed Sirius has never quite stopped thinking of as _theirs_ , dangerous as those thoughts might be.

“I never planned on sponging off you, you know,” Remus says quietly.

Sirius decides to keep his distance for now, and throws himself into the armchair tucked into the corner of his bedroom. “You’re not.”

“Sirius—”

“You’re not!” Sirius protests, then sighs. “I could do this by myself if I had to, of course. I did all right for the first part of the summer, but then I had help.”

“You made friends,” Remus corrects. “Which is good for both you and Harry.”

“That wasn’t exactly the plan, but I’m not sorry it worked out that way,” Sirius replies. When he’d come to the farmhouse in 1994, Remus’ loyalty had been a near-certainty, and Sirius hadn’t tried making any sort of contacts in the village the way he needed to this time.

“You’d make friends anywhere you went,” Remus says.

Sirius shakes his head. “I enjoy the company of Martin and Louise, don’t get me wrong, but they aren’t _you_ , Remus. They don’t remember James and Lily the way we do. They didn’t love them like we did. They can’t talk about Hogwarts and the war and what it was like, and why we made the decisions that we did, however terrible those decisions happened to be.”

“I don’t think Harry needs to hear any of that,” Remus mutters.

“Maybe not now, but someday,” Sirius counters. “If Voldemort does return, and we can’t keep Harry out of the fight, he should reap the benefit of our experience. It’s only right.”

Remus glances away. “Still. I always planned to make my own way.”

“Aren’t you lonely?” Sirius asks a little plaintively. “Because I have been. I was lonely even with Harry here.”

“Yes,” Remus almost whispers the word. “I was very lonely. You know I wouldn’t have stayed without the Wolfsbane.”

“I do know,” Sirius replies. “Why do you think I made sure you had it? I wanted to at least give you the option.”

Remus sighs. “Can we just sleep tonight?”

“We can do anything you like, Moony,” Sirius replies. “I’m just glad to have you here.”

~~~~~

The thing is, owls are intelligent creatures, and Sirius expects that Dumbledore will try another means of getting at Harry now that Remus has proven uncooperative.

He has no doubt that the threat of putting Remus in Azkaban for kidnapping had been just that—a threat. He doubts that Dumbledore would have gone through with it, at least not for long. Chances are good that he would have hung on to Remus long enough for Sirius to come looking for him, or that he hoped the pressure would have forced Remus to cave.

But there’s a small, niggling doubt in the back of his head, because other than Sirius, no one would have cared about a werewolf being consigned to Azkaban, not really. No one would have been looking for him, or have raised a fuss if they found out what happened, no one except for Sirius.

And Sirius doesn’t have any power at the moment, not real power.

So, it’s no surprise when the phoenix arrives with a message from Dumbledore.

Harry’s eyes are bright when he sees the creatures. “What is that?”

The phoenix is sitting on their kitchen table. Harry let him in, and Sirius doesn’t blame Harry. There aren’t very many people who would say no to a phoenix, and this one is beautiful.

Sirius has to admit that he doesn’t remember its name.

“That is a phoenix, and he belongs to the headmaster of Hogwarts,” Sirius replies warily. “Let’s get Remus in here. I’m not touching that message until we know it’s safe.”

“What can a letter do?” Harry asks, sitting on a chair on his knees, leaning towards the phoenix as though he’s itching to pet it.

“An enchanted letter or piece of paper can have a spell embedded,” Sirius explains. “It’s better not to risk it.”

“I’ll get Remus,” Harry replies, running off to the study.

Remus follows Harry into the kitchen and grimaces. “That’s Fawkes, all right.”

“Do you think he would have put a charm or a hex on the letter?” Sirius asks.

Remus shrugs. “Let’s not take a chance. Fawkes, please put the letter on the table.”

Fawkes appears slightly disgruntled by that, but he unties the string securing the letter to his leg and hops back, then coos at Harry.

“Can I pet him?” Harry asks.

“I don’t know,” Sirius replies. “Fawkes, would that be okay?”

Fawkes trills at Harry and moves closer. “Looks like he’d welcome it, Pronglet,” Remus says

Fawkes presses his head against Harry’s chest like a cat, and Harry grins brightly as he gently pets the phoenix. After watching a moment, it’s clear that Fawkes just wants Harry to stroke his feathers, and Sirius relaxes slightly.

But that leaves them with the letter.

“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Remus murmurs.

Sirius points a wand at the letter, and it unrolls, and Remus casts the diagnostic charm. “We‘re safe,” Remus says. “No charms, and no hexes that I can find.”

Sirius shrugs. “I’ll read it, since it’s addressed to me. Don’t be afraid to stun me if I start to act strangely.”

Remus nods grimly, taking the order seriously, because he keeps his wand out.

_My dear Sirius,_

_I realize that you believe you’re doing the best thing for Harry. I don’t blame you at all, and I know that his Muggle relatives aren’t as kind as we might wish, but Harry_ is _safe with them. He has adequate food and shelter, but more importantly, he’s protected from Voldemort. You might not believe that he’ll return, but I can assure you he will, and Harry will be safest with his aunt and uncle when that time comes._

_Perhaps, if you cooperate, we might be able to arrange for visitations during the holidays. I doubt Harry’s family will mind, and you would still get to see him. I might even be able to help you clear your name if Harry is back where he belongs by the time school starts._

_Sincerely,_

_Prof. Dumbledore_

Sirius keeps a straight face with some effort and hands the letter to Remus.

Remus opens his mouth, then snaps it shut. “Well, that’s certainly an interesting interpretation of events.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Sirius says. “Thoughts?”

“We need to have something to counter that,” Remus replies. “In a safety sense.”

“Hmm…” Sirius replies, knowing that they had already planned on shoring up the wards. “I guess we’d better start researching. In the meantime, I’ll compose a response, if you’ll write to Miriam.”

Miriam might not be able to do anything about it, but Sirius thinks she ought to know about Dumbledore’s poorly disguised attempt at extortion.

“Fair enough,” Remus mutters. “I can’t believe that he…” He trails off, probably mindful of Harry and Fawkes’ presence. “Never mind. I’ll grab the parchment and a couple of quills.”

“What did the letter say?” Harry asks.

Sirius sighs. “He still thinks you’d be safer with the Dursleys, and I still think he’s not seeing the full picture. Don’t worry about it, Pronglet. You’re not going anywhere unless it’s with us.”

“He won’t try to take me away?” Harry sounds anxious.

“Possession is nine-tenths of the law, pup,” Sirius replies. “And I have you, which is all that matters for the moment.”

His letter in response is short and to the point.

_I don’t believe you know what Harry’s life with his aunt and uncle was really like, but I do. I know what it_ _’ s like to grow up in a house where you are unwanted and unloved, and I will not put Harry in that position. His parents charged me with looking after him, and I’ve taken a blood oath as his godfather. In point of fact, Remus has taken an Unbreakable Vow to protect Harry, and not give away his location. The fact that you would try to pressure him in that way speaks volumes._

_I know Voldemort will return, but we can protect him, certainly better than the Muggles, even without your wards. We have wards of our own._

_To be blunt, you won_ _’ t be coming anywhere near Harry, and if I see you, I’ll hex first and ask questions later._

_ Sirius Black _

Sirius passes the letter to Remus for his opinion.

Remus snorts. “Well, that’s throwing down the gauntlet.”

“If he keeps this up, he won’t be seeing Harry in this lifetime,” Sirius mutters. “Okay, Fawkes, I have my response.”

Fawkes gives him a dirty look and presses his head against Harry’s neck.

“I guess that tells you,” Remus jokes. “Why don’t I pull dinner together? I’m sure Harry and Fawkes have some additional bonding to do.”

“I’ll get dinner, you write Miriam,” Sirius replies. “How about chicken sandwiches?”

“Do you think Fawkes would want some?” Harry asks.

“I’ll make extra just for him,” Sirius promises. He has no idea if the phoenix will want chicken salad—or what they like to eat for that matter—but it wouldn’t hurt for Fawkes to be fond of Harry.

Maybe Sirius should think about getting Harry a pet. He knows that most of the magical schools allow students a toad, rat, cat, or owl, and while he’s categorically opposed to a rat, and they already have an owl, maybe Harry would like a cat.

A cat would keep the rodent population down, at least.

They have croissants, and Sirius puts together chicken salad from the roast chicken they made a couple of days before, and he puts the platter of sandwiches down on the table about the time Remus is done with the letter to Miriam. Sirius also puts a small dish of chicken salad in front of Fawkes, who starts pecking at it with a chirp. He doesn’t move from Harry’s lap.

“Have you ever wanted a pet, Harry?” Sirius asks.

Harry gives him a cheeky grin. “Besides you?”

Sirius barks a laugh. “Besides me, yes. I don’t think I count.”

“Depends on whether you’re Padfoot or not,” Harry replies, still petting Fawkes.

“Well, I was thinking about a cat,” Sirius admits. “You’re allowed a cat at school. You could get one now and take it with you.”

“I didn’t think cats and dogs liked each other very much,” Harry replies, finally picking up a sandwich to begin eating.

Remus hums thoughtfully. “Depends on the cat, actually. If we got a Kneazle, that might be ideal.”

“What’s a Kneazle?” Harry asks.

“It’s a magical creature that looks like a cat, but is a little more than that,” Sirius replies. “They’re intelligent, loyal, and they can sniff out a deceptive person faster than a human.”

“They also make excellent guard animals,” Remus points out. “And if anybody means you harm, they’d alert you to it.”

“We’d need a license,” Sirius muses. “At least in England.”

“Here, too,” Remus replies. “But only for a pure-bred one. Half-Kneazles don’t require one.”

“The Kneazle won’t try to hurt Hermes?” Harry asks.

“Not in the least,” Remus assures him. “A Kneazle or even a half-Kneazle won’t bother an owl.”

Harry perks up a bit. “And it would be mine?”

“All yours, love,” Sirius assures him. “Next time we’re in Paris, we’ll go looking. It might take a little time, because we want to find one that will bond with you, but we’ll start the next time we’re in Paris, okay?”

Harry nods a little wistfully. “It would be nice to have a pet.”

“Then we’ll do that,” Sirius promises.

Fawkes eats the chicken salad and allows Harry to eat two sandwiches with occasional peeps of encouragement. “Do you think you might take a letter for us?” Remus asks politely once Fawkes has cleaned the dish.

Fawkes makes a mournful sound, but hops away from Harry and allows Sirius to tie the letter to his foot.

“Thank you,” Sirius says. “Please don’t bring back any hexed letters, okay? You clearly like Harry, and he should be with us.”

Fawkes cocks his head, and then flies off through the open kitchen window.

“Should I have not let him in?” Harry asks.

Sirius sighs. “No, I should have put up a mail ward. I think it’s possible that Dumbledore might send a charmed or hexed letter next. Fawkes is fond of you, which means he might not bring anything that will cause you harm, but let’s not put that to the test.”

“It might not be a bad idea not to let in any owls or other creatures unless we know where they’re coming from, and who,” Remus says.

Harry sighs. “I really like Fawkes.”

“And he clearly likes you, which is not at all surprising,” Sirius replies. “Don’t worry about it, Harry. You didn’t do anything wrong, and no harm came of it.”

Remus attaches the letter for Miriam to Hermes’ leg, and then sends the owl off from the front porch.

“The earliest we can pick up the clothes from the tailor is the day after tomorrow, and the furniture should have been delivered by now, so we can stay at the apartment,” Sirius says. “I have to meet with Madame Barre, and Moony, maybe you can help Harry collect what he’ll need for school.”

“That’s no problem,” Remus agrees easily.

Harry shifts. “Do you think Madame Barre will say that I shouldn’t be in Lionel’s year?”

“I doubt it,” Sirius replies. “Madame Barre wouldn’t have said that you’d do better in Lionel’s year if she hadn’t meant it. She might just want to talk to me about a specific plan for you.”

“What kind of plan?” Harry asks.

“I don’t know, and I won’t until I talk to her, but maybe there are subjects you’ll need a bit of help in, and I’ll hire a tutor for you if it’s something that Remus and I can’t help with, okay?” Sirius says. “Don’t worry so much.”

Harry grimaces. “I can’t help it.”

“I know,” Sirius replies. “I’m not holding it against you, Harry, but we’re going to get it figured out, right?”

“Right,” Harry agrees.

“Okay, we’ll need to pack for a few days in Paris, so let me know if you need help with that, pup,” Sirius replies.

Sirius is going to put up mail wards, though, just as soon as Harry goes to bed.

~~~~~

Harry isn’t thrilled to go off with Remus to get school supplies, but he also doesn’t whinge about it. Sirius heads to the school to meet with Madame Barre, as requested.

Sirius still needs to visit the vaults to see what else might be available to them, including furniture and a few other things he thinks he remembers seeing in the past, like communication mirrors.

Right now, though, they don’t have the time. Sirius needs to get to Harry’s new school, and Remus is taking Harry to get his school supplies. They have a meeting with Miriam scheduled for later that afternoon, and Sirius is still hoping to squeeze in a trip to the emporium to see about getting Harry a cat.

They’re planning to spend the entire weekend in Paris, though, so they should have time to get everything done before they head back to the countryside on Monday.

Madame Barre escorts Sirius herself, taking him straight into her office, where she has a pot of tea and a small platter of pastries waiting. “How do you take your tea?” she asks.

“Just black, please,” Sirius replies.

She nudges the pastries closer to him. “Please, help yourself. How did Harry feel after the test?”

“I think he was happy with his performance, although he was a little concerned that you wanted to meet with me privately,” Sirius admits. “He hasn’t had many people in his life he can trust until now, and he doesn’t really like letting me out of his sight.”

“He’s a really lovely boy,” Madame Barre admits. “I think he’ll be an excellent addition to the student body here, and I expect that he’ll quickly make friends.”

“He’s a bit young for his year, isn’t he?” Sirius asks.

“He is,” she confirms. “And he’s a bit small for his age, but we have a strict policy against bullying of any sort. Children are encouraged to engage in healthy competition, but also to help one another out. As I said, I think he’ll do well here.”

“That wasn’t the reason you asked for a private meeting with me,” Sirius comments.

“No, it’s not.” She crosses her legs and folds her hands. “I’ve been teaching for thirty years, Monsieur Black, and I’ve been headmistress of this school for a decade. I’ve seen any number of children come through my doors, all of them with unique problems and circumstances. None of them have been Harry Potter, though.”

Sirius winces. “I thought about enrolling Harry under my last name, just to give him some cover.”

“I think you should talk to Harry about that,” Madame Barre admits. “For his safety and anonymity, it might be best.”

“There’s more,” Sirius prompts.

Madame Barre hesitates. “To be honest, I suggested that Harry be in Lionel’s year because I believe it will be more of a challenge for him. He’s probably right on the cusp, as far as knowledge goes. If I put him in with the younger children, he might not push himself in the way I know he can. With encouragement from you, he’ll at least strive to match Lionel’s performance, even if he hesitates to stand out.”

“He hasn’t had much positive experience with standing out,” Sirius admits. 

“Which means he’ll work that much harder at not being perceived as falling behind,” Madame Barre replies. “At least, that’s my hope. He did well on the maths section, and the language comprehension. He won’t have the knowledge of France that his classmates have, but that’s easily remedied. But it seems that Harry might have some rather traumatic experiences he needs to address.”

“What are you suggesting?” Sirius asks.

Madame Barre hesitates. “He might do well speaking to a mind healer.”

Sirius glances out the window. It’s not like he hadn’t thought of that, but he has no idea who to go to in order to protect Harry’s privacy. “I’m not opposed to the idea,” he replies slowly. “I just wasn’t sure where to begin looking. Do you have a recommendation?”

“We have a counselor here who is very good, particularly with the younger children,” Madame Barre says. “A number of them see her fairly regularly, and it won’t seem odd that Harry is speaking with her.”

“That would be ideal,” Sirius replies. “Obviously, I need to protect his privacy, and any information she receives must be kept strictly confidential.”

“But of course,” Madame Barre replies. “That goes without saying.”

“You’d be surprised,” Sirius says drily. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s just that I don’t trust anyone with my godson.”

“I don’t blame you,” Madame Barre says. “Now, I did want to ask about your current status with the British Ministry, and whether we can expect them to show up here.”

“Not that I know of,” Sirius replies. “Although I can’t tell you what my status is. I’m meeting with my lawyer later to try and determine that, but I’m the head of the House of Black, and the goblins have confirmed my guardianship of Harry. If you need other assurances…”

“No, I don’t,” she replies. “Obviously, the British Ministry has no authority in France. If the ICW announces that you are a wanted man, that would be a different matter, but I assume that you would make your own decisions if that happens.”

“Remus will take care of Harry if something should happen to me,” Sirius replies. “He has my permission to make decisions on Harry’s behalf as well.”

“Good enough,” Madame Barre replies. “I received a copy of the guardianship documents from the bank, along with payment for tuition. That will suffice for now.”

Sirius knows that it might have been a little more difficult. He thinks the fact that the Ministry has not approached the ICW for help apprehending him is fairly telling. The news that Pettigrew had been captured and was the traitor had made the news, even if the story stalled after that.

“Thank you,” Sirius says. “Please don’t hesitate to let me know if there’s anything I can do to help Harry. I’m willing to find tutors, or do anything else that’s necessary.”

“Just your encouragement will likely be a help,” Madame Barre admits. “From what Harry said, I’m not sure anyone had taken even a small interest in his work before.”

“His parents were both very intelligent,” Sirius replies. “It’s not a surprise that Harry is just as bright, but his prior guardians discouraged him from excelling.”

“That will change, starting now,” Madame Barre assures him. “You’ll have a chance to meet Harry’s teachers a month or so into term.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” Sirius replies.

They shake hands, and Sirius walks out feeling much encouraged. He thinks he made the right decision as far as which school to send Harry to, at least for now.

Harry and Remus haven’t returned from their own shopping trip when Sirius gets back to the new flat. He sits down and begins making a list of the things they’ll need.

Sirius sighs. They’ll need to make a trip to Gringotts tomorrow, he thinks. He knows a little bit about what the Black vaults are like, and it’s going to take time to look through them. Plus, Harry might find some furniture he likes better than what’s currently in the loft.

When Remus and Harry return, Harry is smiling, although his expression is a little anxious when he spots Sirius.

“Everything is fine,” Sirius assures him. “Madame Barre thinks you’ll do best in Lionel’s class, but you’ll have to work hard to stay caught up, and if you need help, you have to promise to ask for it.”

“I promise,” Harry says quickly. “I swear!”

  
“That’s all I need to know,” Sirius replies. “There’s no shame in asking for help, but I’ll be disappointed if I find out you’re struggling and you haven’t said anything.”

Harry nods, taking in the seriousness of what Sirius is saying. “I understand.”

“Good lad,” Remus says, ruffling his hair. “We got everything Harry will need for school, and we picked up my new clothing, and Harry’s uniforms.”

He gives Sirius a look that suggests they’ll be having a conversation later about the amount of clothing Sirius ordered for him.

“We need to meet Miriam soon,” Sirius says. “And then I think we should look for a Kneazle after that.”

Remus frowns. “What will we do with it when we go back to the farmhouse?”

“We’ll have to find one that will travel,” Sirius admits. “Because we’re not leaving it to fend for itself during holidays.”

“Fair enough,” Remus replies.

They’re meeting Miriam for a late lunch at a wizarding café not far from the animal emporium where Sirius is hoping to find a pet for Harry.

Miriam is waiting for them, having hired a private room to ensure that they’re not interrupted or overheard.

She’s just as Sirius remembers her—about his age with dark hair and a strong handshake, wearing smart, sensible robes in dark colors, her hair in a sleek bun. “It’s a pleasure to meet you in person,” she says. “Remus, it’s good to see you again.”

“You, too,” Remus replies. “You’re looking well.”

“So are you,” she says, giving him a sharp look. “Whatever you’ve been doing has certainly agreed with you. And this must be Harry.”

Harry is as polite as always and holds out his hand to shake. “Thank you for helping Sirius.”

“It is entirely my pleasure,” Miriam replies. “It’s presented a real challenge, which is what I live for.” She pauses. “Sirius, I’d like to wait until after the food arrives to speak about this further, and I need to be sure that you understand that neither Remus nor Harry have any sort of confidentiality. You might not want them to be present.”

“I do want them here,” Sirius replies. “I’m not going to say anything to you that they haven’t already heard, or that I wouldn’t tell them anyway.”

Miriam nods. “As you like. Harry, Remus, I’m sure I don’t have to tell you how important it is to keep what we talk about private.”

Remus shakes his head, and Harry nods. “I wouldn’t tell anybody anything.”

“I know you won’t, so I’m not worried about you listening in,” Miriam replies with a kind smile. “We’ll get some food, and then we’ll talk.”

Sirius and Remus end up ordering the steak frites, while Harry gets the croque monsieur and Miriam orders the salad Niçoise.

Once they’ve eaten most of their lunch, Miriam asks, “Do you mind if I cast a privacy ward?”

“Of course not,” Sirius replies. “Let me just get another pitcher of water for the table.”

The water appears, and Miriam casts the privacy ward. “All right, this is what I know. The Ministry has accepted that Peter Pettigrew betrayed the Potters, and that Sirius isn’t guilty of the crimes for which he was sent to Azkaban.”

“But they haven’t exonerated him,” Remus says.

“No, and I think they want to use the threat of time in Azkaban to force you to cooperate with whatever they’re planning,” Miriam admits. “They have no legal basis for this. Even if they were able to convict you of kidnapping, which I doubt, you wouldn’t get as much time as you’ve already spent there. Without a trial and a conviction, your legal guardianship over Harry was never revoked, and you had every right to take custody. This is a bully tactic, and I abhor a bully.”

Remus takes a deep breath. “What does that mean for me?”

“It means that you should probably stay out of England for the time being,” Miriam replies. “The Ministry won’t be able to make a case for your apprehension to the ICW, and they’re not going to try. They don’t have a leg to stand on.”

“So, we just never return to England,” Sirius says sarcastically. “I’m sure that’s the outcome Dumbledore really wants.”

Remus snorts. “Dumbledore will be beside himself if Harry goes to Beauxbatons.”

“Then maybe I should,” Harry mutters, and he’s been so quiet that Sirius had nearly forgotten about his presence. “Therese goes to Beauxbatons, and Lionel will, too, so why should I go somewhere I don’t know anybody?”

“That is a very fair question,” Miriam replies. “Harry, would you like to write a letter to Dumbledore?”

Harry brightens. “Can I?”

“Within reason,” Sirius says. “And subject to Miriam’s approval. What are you thinking?”

“He is clearly interested in controlling Harry, for whatever reason,” Miriam replies. “So, we let him know that he’ll never see Harry if he doesn’t cooperate with us.”

“Do you really think that will work?” Remus asks. “He might retaliate.”

“It’s a possibility,” Miriam admits. “But I think we can lay the groundwork. Besides, I’d like to know his motivations, beyond what he’s already said. I don’t believe that it’s only about Harry’s physical safety.”

Sirius has to agree. He accepts that the blood wards provided Harry a measure of protection that they might not be able to duplicate, but Sirius believes that there’s at least a possibility that they _could_ , especially with Dumbledore’s help.

And if Dumbledore understands that they aren’t going to cave, and that Harry is going to remain with Sirius, he might agree to help.

Somehow, Sirius doesn’t believe that Dumbledore is going to give up so easily.

“What’s our next step?” Sirius asks.

“We need to get Dumbledore to reveal his hand,” Miriam replies. “We need to know all of the reasons that he wants Harry’s relatives to have custody. Without that information, we can’t move forward. Obviously, Dumbledore would prefer that no one find out that he lost Harry Potter. We could go public with the fact that Harry’s missing, but that might cause the Ministry to ask the ICW to intervene. They could try to paint a picture of a madman and a dark creature kidnapping Harry for their own nefarious reasons.”

“But I wanted to go with Sirius!” Harry protests.

“I know that seems unfair, Harry,” Miriam says, sounding sympathetic. “But if you write Dumbledore a letter and explain why you want to stay with Sirius, he might listen.”

Dumbledore isn’t going to listen to Harry, but he _might_ provide more of a reason, and tip his hand a bit.

“For right now, though, I think that’s our best option,” Miriam says. “We need more information, and it would be best if you all stayed out of England for the time being.”

“We‘re rather enjoying France at the moment,” Sirius replies. “I don’t think that’s a problem.”

Remus shrugs. “France has been nice so far.”

“Good,” Miriam replies. “I suggest you continue to lie low, gentlemen.”

“Quiet is the name of the game,” Sirius agrees. “That shouldn’t be a problem.”

At least, that’s what he’s hoping.

After making arrangements to send Harry’s letter to Miriam, so she can approve it before sending it to Dumbledore, they take their leave.

Harry is excited about the trip to the emporium, which is where they head immediately after they leave the bistro. Whatever lingering worry Harry has is swept away by the excitement of potentially having a pet.

“What kinds of animals do they have?” Harry asks, skipping a little bit between Remus and Sirius.

“They have all sorts of magical creatures,” Sirius reminds him, although they had been too focused on finding an owl to really look around the last time they’d been at the emporium. “As well as a few mundane ones.”

"If we don't find a pet to suit you today, we can always come back," Remus added. "What's your favorite animal?"

Harry gives Sirius a sly look. “I like dogs best.”

Sirius ruffles his hair. “I think we’ve got the dog part covered, Harry.”

He thinks about Harry’s parselmouth ability and wonders whether a snake might be a good companion; there are magical snakes that make decent pets, but Harry wouldn’t be able to take one to school with him. And really, Sirius doesn’t want to wind up caring for a reptile while Harry’s away at school.

The emporium is cozy and filled with interesting smells—fur and feather and straw. There are several rows of perches with owls of every shape and size along the west wall. Along the east wall, there are plenty of cages with various small animals—rats, mice, toads, snakes, and even some spiders.

Harry wrinkles his nose. “Why spiders?”

“They can be useful for potion ingredients,” Remus replies in a low voice. “And some people like them.”

“Monsieur Black, so nice to see you back here again,” the proprietress calls. Sirius racks his brain for her name. “And your godson, Harry, and Monsieur Lupin.”

“It’s nice to see you again as well, Madame Thiereau,” Remus replies warmly.

Sirius is grateful that Remus remembered her name. She’d been quite helpful when they were here looking for an owl.

“I hope the owl is still to your satisfaction,” Madame Thiereau says, a little anxiously.

“More than,” Sirius assures her. “But we’re back for a pet for Harry, perhaps one that he’ll be able to take with him to school in a few years’ time.”

Madame Thiereau gives Harry a long look. “Hmm…you look like a boy who wouldn’t be interested in a toad or a rat. Too prosaic. Come to the back with me.”

She leads them through the door, and there’s a room with fabric-covered perches and cushions with cats lounging in every possible space, in every possible position. In a corner of the room, there’s a poffle of puffskeins.

Sirius isn’t terribly surprised when Harry makes a beeline for the puffskeins, since they’re new to him, and Sirius hasn’t met anyone yet who isn’t charmed by the creatures.

“Go on, you can pick one up,” Madame Thiereau says. “They enjoy being petted.”

Harry picks one up, beginning to stroke the soft fur, listening to the sounds it’s making. “What is it?”

“That’s a puffskein,” Madame Thiereau replies. “They make very good pets, even though they’re not allowed at schools. They are easy to care for, and are quite charming.”

Harry frowns. “What do they do?”

“Pretty much exactly what it’s doing right now,” Remus says with a laugh. “I think most magical children have had a puffskein at some point.”

Harry puts it down reluctantly. “Oh. That doesn’t make it very interesting, then.”

“They make for a good comfort animal, but they aren’t terribly interactive, I’ll grant you,” Madame Thiereau says.

“What about a Kneazle?” Sirius asks.

She hesitates. “Most of our Kneazle kittens are spoken for months or years in advance, I’m afraid, and our older cats make their own decisions.”

“But?” Remus prompts.

“We do have one half-Kneazle kitten we’ve been having trouble placing,” she admits. “Come along. You can see for yourself.”

She leads them to the corner of the room, and there’s a perch with a young cat curled up in a ball, its furry tail covering its eyes. The markings are striking, dark gray whorls on light gray fur, and the cat doesn’t even bother moving when they approach.

“He doesn’t seem terribly friendly,” Sirius murmurs.

The cat raises its head to glare at them out of one green eye. The other side of his face is has a thick scar running through the eye all the way to the lip, giving him a menacing look.

“Did you get stuck here?” Harry asks, holding out a hand. “It’s not your fault you were hurt. That isn’t fair at all.”

The cat stands and stretches luxuriously, then hops down. Sirius thinks it’s going to walk off, but instead it sniffs at Remus’ ankles, then Sirius’, before returning to Harry, who immediately kneels down.

The cat head-butts Harry’s chin and starts to purr.

“Well, I’ve never seen Tibere respond to anyone like that,” Madame Thiereau says, sounding surprised. “But then, very few can get past the initial impression.”

Harry is sitting cross-legged on the floor now, and Tibere climbs into Harry’s lap, rubbing his head along Harry’s chin. “What happened to him?”

“We don’t know,” Madame Thiereau replies. “He came to us that way when he was very small. It’s possible that an animal attacked him, but we think it’s more likely that a human did that.”

“That’s awful,” Harry says, scratching Tibere behind his ears. “Do you think you’d like to come home with us?”

Tibere purrs even louder.

“Well, it’s good that he’s found a home,” Madame Thiereau says, sounding absolutely delighted. “I was beginning to think he might wind up living here forever.”

“What do you think, Harry?” Sirius asks.

Harry looks up at him, a steely glint in his eyes. “He shouldn’t have to stay here just because someone hurt him.”

“I think it’s settled, then,” Sirius says. “It looks like you’re getting a new friend, Harry.”

Harry strokes Tibere’s head. “I think maybe he got me.”

~~~~~

Tibere doesn’t waste any time once they return to the flat. He makes his way up to the loft and settles down on Harry’s bed.

Harry grins. “It’s okay if he sleeps with me, isn’t it?”

“I’m not sure you have much of a choice,” Sirius jokes. “I suspect he’ll wind up sleeping wherever he likes.”

Tibere makes a noise that’s a cross between a meow and a growl.

“I think he wants me up there,” Harry says. “I’m going to read until bedtime.”

He bounds up the stairs, and Sirius glances at Remus, who doesn’t bother to hide his smile. “I picked up a bottle of wine while we were out. It’s a nice evening.”

“I think I can find a couple of glasses somewhere,” Sirius replies.

They leave the door open, and sit on the balcony with their legs dangling over the edge. “I need to get some chairs for out here, too,” Sirius says. “Maybe a little table.”

“That would be nice,” Remus replies. “How are you feeling?”

“About what?” Sirius asks.

“About Miriam’s plan for moving forward,” Remus clarifies.

Sirius sighs. “I don’t know, Moony. I keep thinking that it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if we just stayed here, in France, and split our time between Paris and the farmhouse. Harry is making friends, and I’m sure he’ll make more. The magical kids will probably go to Beauxbatons, which isn’t a bad school. I know it’s not Hogwarts, but I’m not sure I want to send him into Dumbledore’s clutches at this point.”

“Do you really think it’s that bad?” Remus asks, taking another sip of wine.

“I have no idea.” Sirius pours a little more wine. “I just wish I knew _why_ , Moony.”

“I think we have to accept that Dumbledore has probably thought about the next ten steps, and he’s unlikely to tell us about any but the first one, even if we do exactly what he wants,” Remus says. “Do you think you can live with that?”

“I guess that will depend on whether Dumbledore tries to force us to give Harry back,” Sirius admits. “Not that we will.”

“If France is too close, we can always run away somewhere else,” Remus says. “Like New Zealand.”

Sirius blinks. “Why New Zealand?”

“Because it’s on the other side of the world, and I doubt if even Dumbledore could find us there,” Remus replies, taking another sip of wine.

“I thought about running away to New Zealand once before,” Sirius admits. “Just taking Harry and disappearing.”

“I’m glad you reached out to me before you just disappeared,” Remus admits.

Sirius raises his eyebrows. “Even if it upended your life?”

“To be honest, it wasn’t much of a life,” Remus replies. “I had a lot of fun with Harry today. I wouldn’t have had that if you hadn’t trusted me.”

Sirius clears his throat. “Well, I’m glad you agreed to help me out with this madhouse.”

“Not so mad,” Remus replies. “Things are pretty calm right now.”

Sirius leans against him, and Remus wraps an arm around his shoulders. “Are we doing this?” Sirius asks.

“I think we’re doing something,” Remus replies. “But it’s not like we have a lot of privacy at the moment.”

Sirius snorts. “Well, from what I understand, that’s pretty typical of parents.”

“James and Lily would be really proud of you,” Remus says.

Sirius smiles and blinks back tears. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Remus replies. “Absolutely.”

~~~~~

They manage to find everything they need in the Black vault, and Sirius shrinks it down to tuck it in his pockets.

“A word, Mr. Black,” Ulnuk says once they’ve finished in the vault.

“Of course,” Sirius replies.

“It might be best if we speak privately,” Ulnuk says.

Sirius glances at Remus, who puts a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Let’s go see what the emporium has for treats for Tibere.”

Harry frowns, probably because he doesn’t like the idea of being separated, or being left out of the conversation.

“I’ll catch up later,” Sirius promises. “Don’t worry about it, Pronglet.”

Sirius follows Ulnuk back to his office, and accepts the offer of tea. “I hope your gold is overflowing, Ulnuk.”

“With the Black and Potter vaults back in use, we’ve seen profits increase,” Ulnuk replies. “I felt as though I owed you the courtesy of passing along a message and a warning.”

Sirius nods. “Thank you.”

“Albus Dumbledore has requested that we inform him of the whereabouts of young Mr. Potter,” Ulnuk says. “Of course, we were unable to accede to that request.”

Sirius leans back in his chair. “How did he respond to that?”

“He was not pleased,” Ulnuk admits. “But Gringotts is not subject to the demands of a wizard, no matter who that wizard may be. Mr. Potter’s guardianship was sealed by the bank, and it will remain that way.”

“I’m glad my faith in Gringotts wasn’t misplaced,” Sirius replies. Judging from Ulnuk’s disgruntled tone, Dumbledore might not have been terribly polite when making his request.

“Dumbledore then requested that we arrange for a meeting between you and him,” Ulnuk says. “I explained that it would be up to you, and that the bank could serve as neutral territory only.”

“I’ll have to consult with my solicitor,” Sirius replies. “I won’t agree to the meeting without her present.”

“Dumbledore insists that he speak with you alone,” Ulnuk replies. “But I can pass your request along to him.”

“That’s fine,” Sirius replies. “Please, let me know what he says.”

Sirius doesn’t expect Dumbledore to agree, but he’s tempted to go to the meeting just to see what Dumbledore has to say for himself. It’s possible that he’ll let more slip if it’s just Sirius there.

He knows that Remus and Miriam would never agree to it, though.

“May I recommend some security measures for young Mr. Potter?” Ulnuk asks politely.

“You may,” Sirius replies, knowing that it’s going to cost him a pretty penny, but goblin-made items tend to be quite effective and immune to human magic.

“Do you have communication mirrors or an emergency portkey?” Ulnuk asks.

Sirius pats his pocket. “The Black vault had communication mirrors, but not an emergency portkey, other than the one for the Black Manor.”

“Where would you prefer it to go?” Ulnuk asks.

“Our farmhouse,” Sirius says. “It’s the safest location, and there are people nearby who will help Harry if necessary.”

Ulnuk nods. “Fifty galleons, and I’ll make one that he can wear and keep with him at all times. For a little more, I’ll create one with multiple locations.”

“Let’s do that,” Sirius replies, knowing that he can afford it. He’s certain that Ulnuk also knows that he’ll do whatever it takes to keep Harry safe. A hundred galleons is a small price to pay to ensure that Harry can escape to safety whenever he needs to do so. “How many locations?”

“Fifty galleons per location,” Ulnuk replies with a toothy grin.

“Can Harry take refuge in the bank?” Sirius asks.

Ulnuk nods. “He has his own vault, therefore he is a bank customer. He’ll be afforded all the courtesies.”

“Three locations, then,” Sirius replies. “The farmhouse, our flat in Paris, and the Paris branch of Gringotts.”

Ulnuk nods. “I will let you know when it’s ready.”

“It was a pleasure doing business with you,” Sirius says. “Thank you for your assistance.”

“You are a valued customer, of course, Mr. Black,” Ulnuk replies.

The meeting gives Sirius a lot to think about, but he sets it aside, and heads for the emporium to join Remus and Harry.

Sirius is rather amused to find Harry at the back of the emporium with the puffskeins again, and they’re all cooing at him.

“You know, I doubt Tibere would mind if Harry took a puffskein home with him,” Madame Thiereau says, a wheedling note in her voice, her dark eyes sparkling.

Sirius snorts. “I doubt Harry would mind it either.”

“They’re good for a child, particularly at night,” Madame Thiereau points out. “It gives them something to cuddle.”

Sirius gives her a dirty look. “You are a little too good at your job. Before I know it, Harry will have one of everything.”

“He was fairly adamant about no rats or toads, but I do have a couple of magical snakes that keep showing signs of interest in him,” Madame Thiereau comments.

There’s less prejudice against parselmouths here in France than in England, since Voldemort and his Death Eaters hadn’t been quite so deadly, and Voldemort’s preference for snakes isn’t widely known here either.

“Harry has a way with snakes,” Sirius admits. “But that makes a lot of people uncomfortable.”

“There are some very small ones that make excellent pets, if he ever shows an interest,” Madame Thiereau offers. “I would be happy to get him started. Being able to successfully handle snakes would serve him well, especially in being able to procure or provide potions ingredients.”

Sirius doesn’t think that Harry will be a potions master, not with Snape as a professor, but maybe they can whet his interest before he ever goes to school. Remus’ need for Wolfsbane might do the trick.

Remus glances up from the cat he’s stroking, and comes over to Sirius as Madame Thiereau joins Harry. “How did it go?”

“Ulnuk says that Dumbledore asked the bank for Harry’s location, which they refused to provide,” Sirius replies in a low voice. “So, he wants to meet with me alone. Ulnuk said the bank could serve as neutral ground if necessary.”

“I hope you told him that you wouldn’t be meeting Dumbledore alone,” Remus says, his voice low and insistent.

“I said I wouldn’t meet with Dumbledore without my solicitor present,” Sirius replies. “I doubt he’ll agree, but that buys us a bit of time.”

Remus frowns. “Do you think he’ll go so far as to approach the ICW or the French Ministry?”

Sirius shakes his head. “I don’t know. I’m not sure if he’ll want it to be that far out of his control.”

“Anything else?” Remus asks.

“Ulnuk is making an emergency portkey with multiple locations for Harry,” Sirius replies. “We‘ll go over safety measures as soon as that arrives, as well as how to use the communication mirrors.”

Remus looks a little relieved. “That’s good. That makes me feel better.”

“It makes me feel better, too,” Sirius admits. “I want to shore up the wards around the apartment, too. Nothing life-threatening, but I want to make sure the place is safe.”

Remus nods. “I’m happy to help. It might be good for Harry to watch as well. It’s not often that children see wards being placed.”

Most wizarding homes would already have wards by the time a child comes along, and wizarding families don’t tend to move very often just for that reason. Wards get reinforced with each generation, expanded and refined, steeping in the ambient magic of the family. New wards are just not quite as good, although between him and Remus, they should manage something fairly robust.

“Agreed,” Sirius replies. “And I think we’ll be taking home a puffskein. Madame Thiereau seems to think that Tibere won’t mind.”

“I’m not sure that Tibere would mind anything that makes Harry happy,” Remus remarks.

“He does seems quite taken with him,” Sirius replies. “She also suggested that the snakes were showing an interest in Harry as well.”

Remus chuckles. “Maybe just stick with the cat and the puffskein for now?”

“The last thing we need is a menagerie, I would agree,” Sirius replies, although he can’t help but remember how quickly Harry had bonded with Padfoot, or how good he had been with the hippogriffs. Harry _likes_ animals.

Remus rubs his chin. “My dear Padfoot, I think we’re likely to wind up with a zoo.”

“Good chance of that,” Sirius agrees.

Harry turns to look at them, a puffskein cradled in his arms. “I think this one likes me.”

“Then I think we can probably take him home with us,” Sirius replies. “But just one, and I’m only making an exception because he likes you.”

Madame Thiereau laughs lightly. “I suspect that a very many animals like young Harry. If you make an exception for each one, you will need a much bigger flat.”

“Our flat is quite large enough, thank you,” Sirius says brusquely. “And I think two pets in two days is enough for now. We can talk about additional animals for Harry’s next birthday.”

Madame Thiereau glances at Harry. “Did you just have a birthday, cher?”

“I just turned eight,” Harry says proudly.

“Then I think I can give you a discount on the puffskein, since you did me such a favor by giving Tibere a good home,” she says.

“Let’s get what we need, then,” Sirius says. “And then we can take him home and introduce him to Tibere.”

The introduction goes better than Sirius expects. Tibere immediately stalks down from the loft to sniff at the newcomer and twine around Harry’s ankles. He licks the puffskein once, sneezes, then meows at Harry.

“You don’t mind, do you?” Harry asks him.

Tibere sneezes again, as though to demonstrate how supremely unconcerned he is with the idea of having a puffskein around.

“Looks like Madame Thiereau was right, and Tibere doesn’t mind the company,” Sirius comments.

“I think Tibere knows who’s in charge around here, and it’s certainly not the puffskein,” Remus replies. “But we should probably see about something for lunch, and then get the rest of the furniture settled.”

“Always the pragmatic one,” Sirius replies, but Remus is right. They have quite a bit to do before they have to head back to the countryside the next day.

They make a simple meal, and then spend the rest of the day on domestic chores. They get the furniture resized and in the right places, and shrink whatever they aren’t going to use and put it a closet for storage. Sirius sets up a small potions area in the kitchen, and warns Harry against touching anything.

“Some of these ingredients are dangerous if they get on your bare skin,” Sirius replies. “I’ll explain what everything is eventually, but we’ll need this here to brew Remus’ medicine while you’re at school, just in case. There’s a dedicated potions lab in the cellar back at the farmhouse, and we’ll use that most of the time, but it’s good to get a bit of understanding how this works.”

“Do you make a lot of, um, potions?” Harry asks cautiously.

Sirius shakes his head. “No. It wasn’t my best subject in school, but it’s a useful skill to have. There are some fairly basic potions that most wizarding families like to have on hand and don’t really want to buy, because it’s cheaper to just buy the ingredients and then make your own.”

“But you don’t,” Harry replies.

“I’ve always been able to afford to buy them,” Sirius admits. “But not everybody can, and this is a potion that I wouldn’t trust to just anybody.”

Harry nods. “Because Moony needs special medicine, and nobody should know about him being a werewolf?”

“Precisely,” Sirius replies. “They shouldn’t treat him any differently, just because of that, but they often do.”

“So, just avoid that altogether,” Harry says wisely.

“But if you do let it slip, I’m not going to be angry with you,” Remus replies. “Those things sometimes happen.”

Harry nods. “I’ll be careful.”

“Good lad,” Sirius replies. “Now, we need to set up the wards. You probably won’t be able to see much, not yet, but it’s good for you to know what wards are and now to set them. You’ll have the chance to learn more at school.”

That night, Remus cooks dinner, some kind of bean stew that’s really delicious, along with good bread, and they spend the evening in a domestic peace that Sirius wishes could last forever. Harry is curled up on the couch, his puffskein—now called Nigel—cooing on his lap, and Tibere draped over his legs. He’s reading one of his new schoolbooks, and Remus is in one of the recliners reading a book of his own.

Sirius is in the other recliner with his own book, reading up on how to strengthen the wards.

Sirius smiles, pleased with the view, and flips the page.

~~~~~

They head back to the farmhouse the next day, and Harry immediately asks, “Can I ask Lionel over to meet Tibere?”

“I’ll send a patronus to Louise, and ask her,” Sirius replies. “We’ll see what she says.”

Harry appears to be getting used to magic, because he doesn’t ask questions, just waits to see what Sirius means. “Expecto Patronum!” Sirius says.

It’s easy to summon up a happy memory right now, with Harry watching him in awe, and Remus upstairs unpacking their things. The glowing dog that appears is a close match to Sirius’ animagus form, and Sirius says, “Go ask Louise if Lionel can come over. He’s welcome to stay for dinner tonight. Harry wants to show off his new pets.”

The dog whuffs and then races off.

“What was that?” Harry asks avidly.

“That’s what we call a patronus,” Sirius replies. “They’re useful for being able to send messages like that, or chasing off dementors.”

“What’s a dementor?” Harry asks.

Sirius wishes that Harry didn’t need to know about dementors. There are a lot of things Sirius would prefer that Harry never experience for himself, but he feels like it’s too much of a risk.

“They’re dark creatures who guard the wizard prison, Azkaban,” Remus says, startling Sirius. “They feed on unhappy memories, which means when you’re around them, that’s all you can think about. They’re vile creatures.”

Harry frowns. “Weren’t you in Azkaban, Padfoot?”

“I was,” Sirius says after a very deep breath. “You know, Harry, you need a happy memory to cast a patronus, and the happier the memory, the more powerful the patronus. So, when I cast that charm, I just thought of you.”

Harry nearly glows at that. “Really?”

“Really,” Sirius replies. “And one of these days, when you learn to cast the patronus, I know you’ll have many happy memories to choose from.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “I already have a lot of happy memories. I bet I’ll be able to cast the _best_ patronus.”

Sirius knows that hasn’t always been the case for Harry, but he certainly hope he’s changed all that.

Louise, Therese, and Louise arrive just a few moments later. “I hope you don’t mind us just popping by,” Louise says with a brisk knock on the open front door. “I do love new pets.”

“What did you get?” Lionel asks. “I didn’t know you were getting a pet!”

“It was a bit of a surprise,” Harry admits. “Well, one was, one wasn’t. Tibere? Where are you?”

Tibere strolls in a second later, managing to look as though it had been his idea to appear. “Oh, isn’t he handsome?” Louise says. “He’s very striking.”

“Madame Thiereau said no one wanted him because of his eye, but I think that just makes him more interesting,” Harry asserts.

Therese kneels down and holds out a hand. “How silly. It just means he’s strong and a survivor. You’ve been through it, haven’t you?”

Tibere sniffs her offered hand, and then rubs his head against her hand. Lionel follows her example and gets the same treatment, as does Louise.

“Well, looks like we’ve been found worthy,” Louise says with a smile. “He’s a Kneazle, isn’t he?”

“He is,” Sirius replies. “At least partly. He came in off the street, so it’s hard to say.”

Louise nods. “He’s a good one. He’ll be a good guard cat.”

“You’re welcome to stay as well,” Remus invites. “We have enough for everybody, if you don’t mind something simple.”

“Do you have wine?” Louise asks.

“Of course,” Remus replies with a smile. “I’ll get the glasses.”

Therese is scratching Tibere’s head. “I don’t mind staying.”

“There are plenty of books in the study,” Sirius informs her. “And you’re welcome to borrow one if you find it to your liking. Tibere seems to appreciate people who like books.”

Therese grins at him. “Thank you, Monsieur Black.”

“I think you can call me Sirius,” he replies. “If you’re going to be borrowing books.” He winks at her, and Therese giggles.

“Go on with you,” Louise says. “No need to risk corruption by this reprobate.”

“I’ll have you know that I am entirely reformed,” Sirius replies, even as Therese follows Tibere to the library. Harry has already run off with Lionel to meet Nigel the puffskein. “And my reprobate ways were greatly exaggerated.”

Louise raises her eyebrows. “Were you so focused on Remus even then?”

“Not necessarily,” Sirius replies. “We both had our own jobs during the war. Remus had his missions, and I had mine, and then—well, things went pear-shaped when Harry’s parents were killed.”

“I know what happened,” Louise says gently. “When Martin first spoke of introducing the children, I was somewhat reluctant.”

Sirius gives her a sharp look. “What changed?”

“Martin is a Legilimens,” Louis admits. “He told me that you were innocent, and that your only thoughts were of taking care of Harry. Plus, I knew your grandmother a little. She was older than me, but I knew her. You remind me of her.”

“That’s probably the best compliment I’ve ever received,” Sirius admits. “She was probably my favorite person in the world when I was a child.”

“You were young when she died,” Louise comments.

“I was,” Sirius admits. “She was—she was the best of us, and I remember the summer I spent with her. I wanted Harry to experience a little of that magic.”

Louise pats him on the shoulder in a motherly gesture. “I think you’ve definitely managed that. Morgana knows that Lionel has had a better summer than he usually does. I don’t think he’s complained about being bored since Harry turned up.”

Sirius laughs. “Well, it’s been good for Harry to make a friend, and he’s certainly excited about going to school with him this fall.”

“Lionel is already talking about how he’s going to show Harry everything he knows,” Louise says. “I think Harry will have a protector, as well as a friend.”

Remus approaches with a bottle of wine in one hand and a trio of glasses in the other. “I don’t need to start dinner for a bit.”

“Therese will help you,” Louise replies. “She’s been learning her household charms, and she could use the practice.”

“Not Lionel?” Sirius teases.

“Not while there are wands out,” Louise replies. “But he’s learning the basics without magic.”

Sirius glances at Remus, who says, “You never know when you’re going to be surrounded by Muggles, or otherwise unable to use a wand.”

“Too true,” Louise agrees. “Now, let’s see about that wine, shall we?”

~~~~~

Sirius gets an owl a couple of days later from Gringotts, notifying him that the portkey is ready, and that Dumbledore has agreed to meet him with Miriam present. He gets an owl from Miriam on the same day.

_Dear Sirius,_

_I have to admit that I_ _’ m wildly curious as to how you managed to get Albus Dumbledore to meet you with me present. I honestly didn’t think he would. Your account manager at Gringotts assures me that the meeting will take place there, and that we have their assurance of safe passage._

_I think it_ _’ s worth a try to figure out what Dumbledore’s game is. I have a few ideas of what we can do to move forward, depending on the outcome of the meeting. Just send confirmation to Gringotts as to when you’ll be there, and I’ll make the arrangements._

_ Miriam _

“I don’t like it,” Remus comments after he reads the letter. Harry is at Louise’s, playing Quidditch with Lionel and Therese, so they have privacy.

Sirius leans back from the kitchen table and takes a sip of his coffee. “I don’t particularly like it either, but I think it’s necessary.”

“I don’t like you going by yourself,” Remus clarifies. “I’d prefer to go with you.”

“I’m sure you would,” Sirius replies. “And I would agree if it weren’t for Harry. As it stands, someone needs to stay here with him. I don’t plan to be there long, but just in case.”

Remus sighs. “Just in case doesn’t provide me with any reassurance.”

“It wasn’t meant to,” Sirius replies. “If something should happen to me, I want you to take Harry somewhere safe.”

Remus runs a hand through his hair. “I’m the wrong person for this, Padfoot. Even with the Wolfsbane potion, it’s not completely safe. If I miss a dose, or run out—I would be a danger to Harry.”

“I trust that you’ll make the appropriate arrangements,” Sirius replies. “You’re the only one I trust with him right now.”

Remus takes a sip of his tea. “Then I don’t have a choice.”

Sirius leans in. “You’ll do the right thing for him and make sure he’s taken care of. Whatever that happens to mean.”

Remus reaches out to grab Sirius’ hand. “I don’t want to do this alone either.”

“I’m coming back,” Sirius replies. “I broke out of Azkaban for Harry, and there’s nothing that’s going to prevent me from returning to him.”

“Please don’t let those be famous last words,” Remus says, sounding a bit exasperated.

“I wouldn’t,” Sirius replies. “But let’s not tell Harry.”

Remus rolls his eyes. “Fine. On your head be it, Sirius.”

Sirius knows it’s a risk, but he doesn’t feel as though he has a choice in the matter. “Gringotts promised safe passage, and Miriam will be there.”

“That’s the only reason I’m allowing this,” Remus says. “You know that, right?”

“I will allow you to boss me around, but only to a point,” Sirius warns him. “I have to do what I think is best for Harry.”

Remus leans in and kisses Sirius softly. “That’s your reminder.”

“Noted and accepted,” Sirius replies. “You know, Harry should be gone for a little while longer…”

Remus chuckles. “We should probably make it quick.”

“Quick, I can do,” Sirius promises. “Quick, but memorable.”

And that’s exactly what it is.

~~~~~

Harry isn’t very happy when Sirius announces his intention to go to Paris alone, even after Sirius explains that he has to pick up the portkey at the bank, and he would be with Miriam.

“Remus will be here, and I’ll be back this evening,” Sirius says. “I’ll show you how to use the emergency portkey.”

“Or I could go with you, and you could show me as soon as you have it,” Harry wheedles.

Sirius smiles. “You’re right, I could do that, but I’m not going to, because I have a very boring meeting to attend, and you’ll have more fun here with Remus.”

“But I really want to go with you!” Harry protests.

Sirius kneels down in front of Harry and puts his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “I know you do, but there are going to be places that I need to go that you can’t come, and there are going to be places where you go that I can’t, either. This is one of those times, Harry, and I need you to trust me to know the difference.”

“I trust you,” Harry says sullenly. “It’s everybody else. They don’t want me to stay with you.”

“Some people don’t, but more people do,” Sirius tells him, and presses a kiss to Harry’s forehead. “Be good for Moony, okay?”

“I’ll be good,” Harry promises.

Sirius gives Remus a quick kiss as well, keeping it fairly chaste. “I’ll see you later.”

“I’m holding you to that,” Remus replies, squeezing Sirius’ shoulders.

Sirius arrives at the apparition point just outside the entrance to wizarding Paris, not long before his appointment is scheduled. He enters the magical district and settles his robes around him, making sure that he’s portraying the right sort of image.

Sirius takes the stairs to the bank two at a time, and he’s met by a goblin, who quickly takes him back to one of the nicer conference rooms. Ulnuk joins him in short order with an intricately carved wooden box.

“The emergency portkey will work inside the bank, and it will work for only you and young Mr. Potter,” Ulnuk says. “Which means that it will work for you if you need to leave this meeting—abruptly.”

“I’m not sure why you’re being so helpful,” Sirius admits. “And while I’m happy to pay for the portkey, if I will owe a favor to the goblins in the future, I’d prefer to know what that favor will be.”

“You are right to be wary,” Ulnuk says. “It shows your good sense. It suits the goblins to have the Black and Potter vaults in use, and to have the House of Black in play in the Wizengamot.”

Sirius snorts. “You don’t know that I’ll be able to take my seat on the Wizengamot. I may very well stay in France.”

“You might,” Ulnuk agrees. “But I very much doubt it.”

Sirius shrugs. “And what do you think I would do in the Wizengamot?”

“Your friend is a werewolf,” Ulnuk replies. “I have a fairly good idea.”

Sirius doesn’t have a quick reply to that, so opens the box and whistles appreciatively, knowing that goblins like their work to be admired. “This is absolutely beautiful, Ulnuk.”

“I will pass your compliments along to the artisan,” Ulnuk replies. “The chain is unbreakable, and only the wearer may remove it. The three passphrases are as you requested—grandmother, for your farmhouse in the country, puffer for your flat in Paris, gold for the bank.”

“Thank you,” Sirius replies sincerely. “I feel much better about Harry’s security.”

“As do the goblins,” Ulnuk replies.

Sirius is really getting tired of hidden motives, but at least Ulnuk is trying to help him keep Harry. If the goblins want something from them, they’ll figure that out later.

“Now, I will have your solicitor escorted back when she arrives,” Ulnuk says. “When Albus Dumbledore arrives, I will notify you, and you can decide when he should join you.”

“Thank you,” Sirius replies.

He doesn’t enjoy being alone in the conference room; there’s too much time to think about what might possibly go wrong, especially when the answer is everything. Dumbledore is likely to reach the—correct—conclusion that Sirius is hiding out in France, and that Harry is probably with him.

Dumbledore doesn’t have the same pull on the international level that he does in England, but he’s influential with the ICW. If he hasn’t used that influence yet, he has a reason.

Miriam arrives and sits down next to him. “For the record, there’s nothing he can do to you within the walls of the bank, and he doesn’t know you’re in France.”

Sirius blinks. “How did you manage that?”

“I didn’t, Ulnuk did,” Miriam replies. “There are conference rooms in the bank that exist in every branch of Gringotts. Meaning, that you can enter the room in Paris, and Dumbledore can enter in London, and no one would have any reason to know who entered from where.”

Sirius blows out a breath. “That’s something of a relief.”

“I will always do what I can to protect my clients,” Miriam says. “I’ve used this trick a couple of times before, but not often.”

“I can’t thank you enough,” Sirius says.

“I’m already fond of your godson, and he is very fond of you,” Miriam replies. “Besides, you’re innocent, which is something of a rarity in my line of work.”

“Do you have any advice for me?” Sirius asks.

“Pretend I’m not here,” Miriam instructs. “Draw him in. Get him to talk to you, to explain what he wants and why. Dumbledore already knows that you have Harry. You can’t incriminate yourself any more than you already have.”

Sirius rolls his eyes. “Well, that’s comforting.”

“As I’ve said before, and as I would argue at a trial, it’s not kidnapping when you had every legal right to custody,” Miriam says. “If they didn’t acquit you outright when the realities of Harry’s home life came to light, I believe they would agree that a godfather has more rights to a magical child than their Muggle relatives. And I very much think that Dumbledore would prefer no one find out what Harry’s life with his Muggle relatives was like.”

“Mildly more comforting,” Sirius admits. 

“Just keep that in mind, and I think we’ll be fine,” Miriam replies.

A goblin appears in the doorway. “Albus Dumbledore is here, Mr. Black.”

Sirius glances to Miriam, who nods. “Show him in,” Sirius says. “Might as well get this over with.”

He leans back in his chair and props an ankle on his knee. He’s striving to appear as unconcerned as possible, hoping that it will spark a reaction from Dumbledore.

Dumbledore enters a few moments later, wearing bright purple robes, his eyes twinkling behind his half-moon spectacles. “Sirius, my boy, you’re looking well.”

Sirius manages a smile in return. “Thank you. So are you.”

“And did you bring young Mr. Potter with you?” Dumbledore asks. “I had thought we might renew our acquaintance today.”

“He’s with friends,” Sirius replies. “And quite safe.”

Dumbledore glances at Miriam. “Ah, and Ms. Rogers. It’s a pleasure to see you again. I hear you’ve done quite well for yourself.”

“That’s kind of you to say,” she says with a nod. “Since I’m only interested in the pursuit of justice for my clients.”

“I understand that you’re representing Mr. Black in this matter,” Dumbledore says.

“I am here to protect his interests,” Miriam replies. 

Sirius clears his throat, drawing Dumbledore’s attention. “The thing is, the Ministry has everything they need in order to clear my name, and yet you attempted to get Remus charged with kidnapping, even though he had absolutely no involvement.”

Dumbledore smiles gently. “We couldn’t have known that. You and Remus were always so close at school.”

“Remus thought I was guilty of mass murder and betraying our friends until I turned up with a live rat,” Sirius counters. “Remus had no reason to help me.”

Dumbledore spreads his hands, a gesture of innocence. “You must understand where we’re coming from. If people knew that Harry Potter had disappeared, we would have had considerable panic.”

Sirius bites back his first, impatient reply. “Good thing that Harry is safe with his godfather, then, isn’t it?”

“Safety is relative,” Dumbledore counters. “He was quite safe with his aunt and uncle.”

Sirius frowns. “Was he?”

“Of course,” Dumbledore replies. “I had someone watching him.”

“And how long did it take her to realize that Harry was missing?” Sirius asks.

The first signs of temper are showing. “She thought they’d gone on vacation.”

“The whole family?”

Dumbledore sighs. “She eventually alerted us.”

“Yes, and you’re still insisting that Harry is safe with them, when he was out of the country without anyone realizing it for weeks,” Sirius says calmly. “Harry is happy with me. He has friends who care about him, and he’ll be going to a school that will provide him with the challenge and support he needs. I’m sure you read his letter.”

“Harry doesn’t know what’s best for him,” Dumbledore replies, the twinkle dimming just a bit. “And Lily’s blood wards are strengthened when Harry is staying with his relatives. Voldemort won’t be able to touch him as long as he can call his aunt’s house his home.”

Sirius takes a deep breath, holding on to his temper with his fingernails. “I see. Then you have some idea just how unhappy Harry was.”

“Every child is unhappy in some way,” Dumbledore replies beatifically.

“The same way that I was unhappy?” Sirius asks. “The kind of unhappiness that drove me to take refuge with the Potters?”

“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,” Dumbledore says dismissively. “Your parents were an outlier. I understand why you’d feel the need to ‘save’ Harry, based on your background, if you thought that he was being harmed, but that was an overreaction.”

Sirius takes a deep breath. “I just wanted to check on Harry, you know.” That would have been true had he not already known what he would find at the Dursleys’. “You know about my animagus form.”

“I do, of course,” Dumbledore says with a smile. “And you were so helpful to Remus, you and James both displayed a high degree of loyalty and friendship.”

“Harry’s aunt turfed him out of the house, told him to weed the back garden,” Sirius continues. “When he was done, his aunt handed him a sack lunch and told him not to return until nightfall. Lunch was a cheese sandwich.”

Dumbledore shifts minutely. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“No, I suppose not,” Sirius admits. “Harry was grateful to have a dog’s company. He was sweet, you know. He kept offering parts of his lunch, and he showed me to the park. He was out all day without any supervision.”

“He seems like a very kind boy,” Dumbledore says. “But that just proves my point.”

“Does it?” Sirius asks. “Because the next time I saw him, I made sure to get him alone so I could transform, and I told him that I knew his parents. I told him that I was his godfather, and I wanted him to live with me. He didn’t even hesitate. I could have been anybody.”

That seems to get Dumbledore’s attention. “Boys love dogs.”

“Harry loves animals,” Sirius agrees. “He’s good with them. You wouldn’t know that, though. You relied on your wards and your informant to tell you whether something went wrong. And those wards and that informant failed, because if I had been anyone other than who I am, Harry could have been dead or with Death Eaters right now.”

That shakes Dumbledore a bit. “Then let’s be grateful it was you who ran into him, but that doesn’t change anything. Harry needs to be with his relatives.”

“I took a blood oath as his godfather,” Sirius counters. “You could build wards on that oath, surely. Harry would be safe. He’d be happy and loved. If you would help to clear my name, it would be easy to make certain that that Harry was cared for.”

“I’m afraid that’s quite impossible,” Dumbledore says with a tight smile. “It’s very important that Harry stays with his Muggle relatives.”

Sirius takes a deep breath. “Does this have anything to do with the prophecy?”

He has something of an advantage this time, since he not only knows what the prophecy said, but he’s had a glimpse of the future—more than one.

“Prophecies are notoriously unreliable, my boy,” Dumbledore hedges.

Sirius’ eyes narrow. He knows how likely he had been to throw himself into danger, to risk his own life, just because he hadn’t thought anybody would care if he lived or died. And Sirius had known that there were people who cared about him, but it hadn’t been quite the same.

“Harry is a good lad, and he cares about people,” Sirius says conversationally. “I’m sure if you explained that he needs to die in order to save the world, he’d probably do it.”

Dumbledore splutters a bit. “That’s not—”

“Isn’t it?” Sirius asks. “You’d leave a child with people who don’t care for him, who would leave him open to being preyed upon by Death Eaters, hoping somehow that he won’t turn into a raging psychopath, or another Dark Lord. Actually, I think those two terms are pretty much interchangeable.”

“I think you’re blowing this way out of proportion,” Dumbledore replies, the twinkle gone from his eyes. “It is imperative that Harry stay with his Muggle relatives! He must be ready to rejoin the wizarding world when it’s time for him to go to Hogwarts.”

“He’s already rejoined the wizarding world,” Sirius replies. “He’s practicing Quidditch with his friends, and he’s already brilliant on a broom. By the time he’s ready for a house team, he’ll likely have his pick of positions, although I think he’ll favor Seeker. He has a cat and a puffskein, and his best friend will be in his year at school, which serves both Squibs and magical children. There are other adults who care about him, and who will mind if he’s gone.”

Dumbledore is staring at him, and Sirius can’t tell if he’s murderously angry or just disappointed that things haven’t gone his way.

“You have the opportunity to do right by Harry,” Sirius says. “You can trust that James and Lily’s son will do the right thing when the time comes, and you can deal with the fact that he will have adults who care about him and will intercede if necessary.”

Dumbledore appears to gather himself. “You have no right to him.”

“On the contrary, I think you’ll find I have every right,” Sirius replies. “And you know it. I’ll eventually be found innocent, and then the Wizengamot will confirm what Gringotts has already established. James and Lily chose me to look after Harry should anything happen to them, and I have sworn a blood oath to protect him. There is no one who would choose those Muggles over me, and there is no reason not to declare my innocence—assuming you want what’s best for Harry.”

That last is a bit of a low blow. There’s no way Dumbledore can weasel out of this, because he knows Sirius is innocent, and he knows that Harry wasn’t well treated at the Dursleys, and the evidence will bear that out.

Unless Dumbledore comes right out and says that he wants Harry to be in a position where he would be vulnerable to whatever machinations Dumbledore had in mind, he has to acquiesce.

That’s why Sirius had wanted Miriam to be present in the first place. Her character and reputation are unassailable.

Dumbledore settles back in his chair. “Really, please be realistic, my boy. You’re in no position to be a parent.”

Sirius smiles, a wolf’s grin that he remembers seeing on his grandfather’s face. “I’m the Black Heir. I have access to all the Black vaults, and all the Black properties. I can shut off access to the same to anyone I choose to disinherit, including the Malfoys and the Lestranges. And if push comes to shove, I can go before the Wizengamot and present my case myself, including everything I know about the Muggles, and their treatment of Harry, and the fact that he was missing for weeks before you took notice. I’m sure that will be the headline on the front page of the _Prophet_ , in fact.”

Sirius would rather not threaten Dumbledore. He still has a lot of respect for the old wizard, and he’s certain that Dumbledore believed he was acting for the greater good.

But needs must, as his grandmother might have said.

“I will have to think about what you’ve said,” Dumbledore replies. “I still think you’re wrong, and Harry would be better off with his Muggle relatives.”

“You are entitled to your opinion,” Sirius replies. “Just as I’m entitled to ensuring my godson is safe from harm, whether that’s physical, emotional, or magical.”

Dumbledore nods stiffly and leaves, and Sirius looks at Miriam after he takes a deep breath to calm himself. “What do you think?”

“He wanted Harry in a position where he could use him, and I’m sure I don’t know what for, but Harry is not a pawn on a chessboard,” Miriam replies. “He’s also not fond of losing, and he had a lot of plans. It was difficult for him to regroup. My guess is that he will, and then he’ll begin a charm offensive, and be all apologies and promises.”

“In order to get Harry under his control, you think,” Sirius says.

“ _You_ think,” Miriam counters. “I don’t have enough information to say that, but I don’t know that you’re wrong. He clearly has an agenda, and we can’t discount the idea that he might try going to the ICW himself.”

Sirius nods. “That’s what I thought as well. What’s our strategy?”

“We go to them first,” Miriam replies. “My husband did his mastery with the ICW, and we have some good friends there. I’ll reach out to them. They have limited jurisdiction over crimes committed solely on British soil, or I would have mentioned it sooner, but you and Harry are in France now. If they try to act against you here, that would be squarely within their jurisdiction.”

Sirius nods, knowing that it’s a delicate balance they’re striking. He wants Harry to be safe, and Dumbledore still has information that Sirius doesn’t yet have about Voldemort. Sirius’ knowledge about the future is limited by the fact that—well, he’d died before he had all the details, and he hadn’t been paying nearly enough attention at that point.

He’s clear-headed now, though, and single-minded in purpose.

“Reach out to your contacts at the ICW,” Sirius says. “I trust you, and I don’t think it will be that easy or that clean. Quite the opposite, in fact.”

Miriam nods. “Of course. I hope you have strong wards, Sirius. I don’t think that Dumbledore will try anything, but I wouldn’t risk it if I were you.”

“Same to you,” Sirius replies. “We’ve done everything we can to protect Harry at this point, but you were a witness to this conversation.”

Miriam smiles tightly. “This isn’t my first Quidditch match. Dumbledore is well respected, and I was here as your attorney. A transcript of this meeting is in my office, and will be made part of the official record, should anything happen to either of us.”

“I don’t think Dumbledore would harm you,” Sirius begins.

Miriam shakes her head. “No, he wouldn’t, would he? It wouldn’t fit with his image. Don’t get me wrong, I like Albus Dumbledore, and I have fond memories of him from my time at Hogwarts. I know what he did for Remus. He’s a good man. But I’ve represented plenty of good men and women who thought they were doing the right thing at the time only to discover that it had gone completely wrong.”

Sirius is still thinking of those words as he takes the portkey home, not wanting to apparate. He thinks it might be for the best to stick around the farmhouse until school begins.

He wonders if he’s one of those men, who thinks he’s doing the right thing but isn’t. Dumbledore is smarter than most, and has lived longer. It’s entirely possible that he knows something Sirius doesn’t, that there was a reason for Harry to stay with the Dursleys that isn’t obvious.

Maybe the blood wards can’t be replicated, and Sirius is opening Harry up to an attack.

And then he lands lightly in their front yard. It’s late afternoon, and the sun is beginning its descent, turning the sky a dozen brilliant colors, limning the clouds with pink and orange. Harry comes flying out the front door, flinging himself at Sirius, wrapping thin arms around his neck.

“You’re back!” Harry exclaims.

“I told you I would be, didn’t I?” Sirius asks, holding him tightly. “Did you have a good day, Pronglet?”

“I missed you,” Harry replies. “Lionel wanted to play, but I was worried!”

“I’m so sorry, love,” Sirius murmurs. “I didn’t want you to worry. Come on, let me show you the portkey.”

The silver chain slips over Harry’s head easily, the medallion resting against Harry’s breastbone, just over his heart. “Do you remember the last emergency portkey?” Sirius asks. “It’s like this one, just more permanent.”

Harry nods. “What do I have to say?”

“Grandmother for here, and this is where I want you to come if someone tries to grab you anywhere _but_ here,” Sirius says. “Louise or Martin will be able to help you, and you’ll be safe behind the wards.”

Harry nods. “Got it.”

“If you’re in Paris, and someone tries to grab you, you can go to the flat, especially during the school year,” Sirius continues. “You just have to say puffer. The wards will keep out anyone who means you harm, and you can always fall back here if you need to.”

Harry swallows. “Okay.”

“And if all else fails, you say gold, and this will take you to the bank,” Sirius says. “Ulnuk has promised that they’ll look after your interests.”

He doesn’t say that there’s a good chance Sirius might well be dead at that point, and that Harry, as heir to the House of Black, might be in hot demand.

Harry sniffs. “I don’t want anything to happen to you!”

“I don’t want anything to happen to me either, Pronglet,” Sirius replies, pulling him in for a tight hug. “I don’t want anything to happen to any of us, but there are bad people out there who mean us harm, and I want us to be safe more than anything else.”

“Is Dumbledore a bad person?” Harry asks.

Sirius sighs. “No, he isn’t, pup. I think he’s a person who has an idea for how to win the war, and we have thrown a spanner into his works. Hopefully, he’ll go away and come up with a different plan. But even if he doesn’t, we have another plan in place, okay? We’re going to be fine.”

Sirius looks over Harry’s shoulder to see Remus standing in the yard, his hands in his pockets. “Hey, Moony.”

“Dinner’s ready, if you’re hungry,” Remus replies. “It’s not much, but it’s hot.”

“Not much” turns out to be pork chops with some kind of gravy, mash, and vegetables. “You’ve been holding out on me, Moony,” Sirius teases.

“I might have asked Louise for the recipe,” Remus admits. “I’m glad you like it.”

Dinner is a bit stilted, maybe because Sirius can’t talk about the meeting in front of Harry, and his suspicions, and Remus can’t ask. Or maybe it’s for another reason, and Remus is beginning to get cold feet. It wouldn’t be the first time.

Sirius agrees to read a chapter or two of the book that Harry’s been reading, and he notices that Harry has Nigel tucked under one arm while Tibere has spread himself over as much of Harry’s lower half as he can reach.

He reads past the point where Harry’s eyelids begin to droop, right up until he’s certain Harry is deeply asleep, and then he scratches behind Tibere’s ears. “Look after him, won’t you?” he whispers. “Keep the nightmares at bay?”

Tibere sniffs, then licks Sirius’ hand, before resting his head on Harry’s stomach.

Sirius heads to his own bedroom, unsurprised to find Remus there. He closes the door and casts a privacy charm, one that will let him know as soon as anyone tries to enter the bedroom. He suspects Harry will join them at some point, but maybe Tibere and Nigel will keep him in his own bed.

“How did it go?” Remus asks.

Sirius sits down and scrubs his hands over his face. “Tell me the truth, Moony. Do you think any less of me for leaving Harry with Hagrid and chasing down Peter?”

“Of course not!” Remus replies, keeping his voice low, but there’s definite heat there. “You were doing what you thought was right. It might have been better if you’d made another choice, but how were you supposed to know how it would turn out?”

“How indeed?” Sirius murmurs. “That’s the thing. I still don’t know exactly what Dumbledore thought he would gain by leaving Harry with the Dursleys. At least among the old wizarding families, everyone knows that magic can go bad—turn inward—if a child is punished for having magic. Merlin’s pants, some wizarding families go the opposite route—they do whatever it takes to encourage a magical response if it looks like a child might be a Squib.”

Remus nods slowly. “I understand that. I’ve heard the stories.”

“So, why would Dumbledore leave Harry there?” Sirius asks. “Knowing that Harry is magical, knowing that they wouldn’t love him, why would he risk it? And I can’t help but think that he had a plan, a plan that I interrupted.”

“The sort of plan that would be along the same lines of him allowing a werewolf to go to school at Hogwarts?” Remus asks.

Sirius won’t look at him. “Yes. Something along those lines.”

“So, Harry goes to school and is exposed to magic for the first time, without any parents who might intervene or intercede,” Remus says slowly. “Hogwarts becomes his home, and—and he would do anything for Dumbledore. Anything to help.”

Sirius doesn’t point out that Remus had been in much the same boat—so grateful to Dumbledore for giving him a chance that he’d been willing to risk his life to approach other werewolves during the war.

Remus’ expression suggests he’s thinking along the same lines, and he adds gently, “Not so different from you, either.”

“I had James,” Sirius says shortly. “And the rest of the Marauders, and James’ parents, and I imagine Harry would have that, too. He’d make friends, and there would be those like Louise and Martin who would be kind to him. He wouldn’t be alone.”

“But he would _feel_ alone, which is another matter entirely,” Remus replies. “Like during the war.”

Trust Remus to bring that up, but they haven’t really talked about it in this timeline, and Sirius figures they’re about due. At this point, he’s not sure what happened or what didn’t happen, because he’s lived so many lives, and there are so many variables.

But what he remembers is this: he and Remus had been sharing a flat off and on, and they had fought. Remus came back from a mission beat all to hell, and Sirius had been angry, and—

Had that been before or after Harry was born? He can’t recall now, and he can’t recall if they’d made up after that fight, or if it had been another one that splintered their relationship. He just knows that he’d still wanted Remus, and he was fairly certain Remus still wanted him, and they had both said unkind things.

Horrible, cutting things. Things that a Death Eater might say, at least on Sirius’ part. It’s no wonder Remus thought he’d betrayed James and Lily.

“Sirius, no,” Remus is saying, sounding very far away. “Wherever you are, come back. Whatever you’re thinking, don’t. Take a deep breath for me, please. Please just breathe.”

Had he not been breathing? Sirius wonders, and then he takes in a gasping breath and realizes that he hadn’t.

“Okay, you’re okay,” Remus says, and begins to undress him. “We can talk about this some other time.”

“We can talk about it now,” Sirius says, but his voice sounds weak even to his own ears.

“Not if you’re going to go into some sort of fugue state,” Remus mutters determinedly, hustling Sirius under the covers. “You scared me half to death.”

Remus pulls at Sirius until he’s laying over him, and pulls him close. “What the bloody hell was that?”

“I don’t know,” Sirius admits. “I didn’t mean to stop breathing.”

“When Harry starts school, we’re finding a mind healer for you,” Remus says.

Sirius snorts. “There won’t be one who can deal with my issues.”

“I’ll _find_ one,” Remus replies grimly, and Sirius believes him. “Tell me what happened today. All of it.”

Sirius begins recounting the conversation with Ulnuk, with Miriam, and with Dumbledore, as best as he can remember it. He tells Remus that he’s worried that Dumbledore is right, and he’s not a good parent, and Harry would be better off with the Dursleys.

“Don’t be an idiot,” Remus scolds. “Harry is happy with you. He’s happy _here_. And before you say it, what he has here, he has because _you_ gave it to him. Now, go to sleep. I think you’re exhausted.”

“I think I might have nightmares,” Sirius protests.

“Fine. I’ll wake you up,” Remus replies. “Go to sleep.”

When he wakes up, he’s momentarily panicked because he can’t move, and then Sirius realizes it’s because he’s completely surrounded. Remus is still asleep next to him, an arm slung over his chest. Harry is on the other side, his puffskein on Sirius’ abdomen. Tibere has stretched across their legs as best he can, which is very effective indeed.

Sirius goes back to sleep, and he doesn’t dream.


	4. Part the Fourth: In Which the ICW Gets Involved

After the meeting at the bank, Sirius feels comfortable enough giving Miriam the location of the farmhouse, if only because she should have somewhere to fall back to if necessary.

Maybe he’s being paranoid, but there really are people out to get him.

Besides, the wards at the farmhouse can’t be beat, shored up by centuries of magic by his grandmother’s family, and then the Blacks. If Sirius hadn’t been the Black Heir and recognized by the wards, he wouldn’t have been able to take possession of the farmhouse in the first place.

Since his meeting with Dumbledore, Sirius has strengthened the wards even more. They’re not lethal, but anybody not recognized will be firmly redirected. Anybody who persists will be stunned. Miriam and her husband were warned, so they stay outside, along with their guest, someone who Sirius had once known well.

It’s a little awkward.

“Your wards are impressive.” Miriam’s husband, Oscar, steps through with a rueful grin. “I got the feeling I’d be sorry if we persisted.”

Oscar is a tall, thin man with dark blond hair and deep-set hazel eyes in a craggy face.

“That’s the general idea,” Sirius admits, catching sight of their guest. “I’m glad you could make it.”

“Don’t pretend to be a stranger,” Stefano says, holding out his arms, looking just as Sirius remembered him—dark hair, dark eyes, a solid build, and a warm, wide smile. “We parted on good terms.”

Sirius sighs and returns the hug, remembering the circumstances under which they’d parted. He thinks. He’s still getting his facts mixed up a bit. “It’s good to see you, Stef, but I have a partner and a child now.”

“Is this the same man you were pining over the last time we saw one another?” Stefano asks.

Sirius winces. “It might be. I’m not pining any longer, though.”

“Ah, and here I thought I would be your knight in shining armor!” Stefano says. “But all joking aside, you are looking quite well, Sirius. I was not expecting that, to be honest.”

“I’ve had some time to recover,” Sirius admits. “Come. Meet my partner and my godson.”

The introductions go fairly well. Harry is polite, and Remus is diffident, but Sirius thinks Remus might know something about Stefano. He seems to recall a fire call or something where Remus might have seen Stefano in his bed, but he honestly can’t remember.

Remus doesn’t say anything, and Sirius makes sure to stick close to him, and he hopes that makes his loyalties clear.

When they’re eating—a rabbit stew that has been braising all day—Miriam says, “Stefano is our contact at the ICW. I didn’t realize you all knew each other, though.”

“Sirius and I are acquainted, but I would have assisted regardless,” Stefano replies, glancing at Harry. “But perhaps we should have this conversation elsewhere.”

“Don’t worry about Harry,” Sirius replies. “I’ve made arrangements for tonight, but I’d like to get started.”

Stefano inclines his head. “As you wish. He is your godson. I have heard rumors that Dumbledore has approached various people at the ICW about him, but the consensus is that Harry is a British citizen, and it is the problem for the Ministry there. They do not wish to get involved.”

“But?” Sirius prompts.

“But nothing,” Stefano replies. “You are currently on French soil. The Black house has French roots. No one wants to upset the balance. Unless or until the British Ministry oversteps its bounds, you are safe.”

“And if I do go back to England?” Sirius asks.

Stefano shrugs, although he appears a little uncomfortable. “Then you would be on English soil.”

“What if I asked for my day in court in the ICW?” Sirius asks.

Stefano glances at Miriam. “I already explained this.”

“To me,” she replies. “Explain it to him.”

“Everyone expects Dumbledore to be appointed the next Supreme Mugwump,” Stefano replies. “No one wants to go against him.”

Sirius knows that sort of prevarication all too well. “But?”

“But the ICW knows that Voldemort was contained in England because of the efforts of people like you, and like Mr. Potter’s parents,” Stefano replies. “They owe you a debt of gratitude. You can use that.”

Sirius glances around the table, and he sees the determination on Remus’ face. Harry just seems a little lost, but the discussion is above his comprehension, thank Merlin.

“I will,” Sirius replies. “Let’s finish supper, and then I think Harry might enjoy spending the night with his friend.”

~~~~~

Sirius had already arranged for Harry to spend the night at Louise’s, and it doesn’t take but a few moments to side-along him there with a bag. “Did you like that man?” Harry asks.

“There were a lot of people I liked, but I never liked any of them as well as your Uncle Moony,” Sirius admits. “Enjoy your time with Lionel, okay? We’ll be by tomorrow to pick you up.”

Louise joins them and sends Harry inside. “Lionel is up in his room. He got a new game today, and he was hoping you’d be by so you could play.”

Harry runs inside, and Louise turns to him. “How are you?”

“A little uncertain, but I’ll be fine,” Sirius replies. “Thanks for looking after him.”

“He’s a delight,” Louise replies. “No thanks are needed.”

Sirius apparates back to the farmhouse and girds his loins for the conversation. There’s a loaded silence when he enters, and he takes a breath. “Harry’s safe at his friend’s house for the night. What else do we need to know?”

“The ICW is likely to side with you,” Stefano admits. “You’re from a pure-blood family, and your godson is half-blood at best. The Black family has a reputation, as do you.”

Sirius hopes that means they would be confused. Between what the Blacks stood for and his own reputation, either everyone will object to Sirius’ guardianship or no one will. He’s really not sure at this point.

“Okay, then what?” Sirius asks. “What do I do?”

“Right now, the ICW doesn’t have any jurisdiction or standing to intercede,” Miriam explains. “However, you could claim French citizenship for yourself and Harry, since he’s your heir, and the Blacks frequently held dual citizenship.”

Sirius can see where Miriam is headed with this line of reasoning. “So, I request dual citizenship for Harry, and wait for the British Ministry to interfere.”

“It’s not without risks,” Stefano admits. “There’s a possibility that they will find against you and side with Dumbledore.”

“To be blunt, right now we’re in a stand-off,” Miriam says. “Dumbledore isn’t going to act against you, because the outcome is uncertain, and he knows he might lose all access to Harry. He might not force the issue until it’s time for Harry to start Hogwarts.”

“Or he might not wait, and try something for which we aren’t prepared,” Sirius says bluntly.

“True,” Miriam agrees. “You could also go to England, and that might cause the Ministry to attempt to arrest you, forcing his hand.”

Sirius shakes his head. “No. I’m sorry, but I can’t risk going back to Azkaban.”

“I don’t blame you,” Stefano says. “I was sorry to hear what happened to you, and I couldn’t believe what they were saying.”

“Unfortunately, there were plenty of people who did,” Sirius mutters, and then immediately regrets it when he sees Remus’ stricken expression. “Not your fault, Moony.”

“I feel like it is,” Remus replies.

“No one would have listened to you at the time, and we both know that,” Sirius replies. “So, don’t beat yourself up.”

Miriam nods. “Caution is wise. I think we can make it difficult for them to take you into custody at the very least.”

Sirius believes her, but he also knows that he’s going to do what it takes to have plans in place to run if they have to. As long as he has enough warning, he can grab Harry and disappear.

“I have my resources,” Miriam says. “If the British ministry makes a move, I’ll know about it.”

Sirius nods. “So, I’ll apply for French citizenship, and we’ll wait for the Ministry to make a move. What if they don’t?”

“Do you really think they’ll let it go?” Remus asks.

“In a word, no,” Sirius admits. “But I need the possibilities.”

“We can try a petition to the ICW, and ask for a declaration,” Stefano points out. “It doesn’t have the effect of law, or a judicial decision, but it would provide some cover, and I doubt the British Ministry would want to go against it, although they might find reason to undermine it.”

Sirius understands what they’re telling him. There are a lot of options and no real guarantees. He could remain in France with Harry, and just hope for the best. He could leave for parts unknown, which is attractive in its own right.

Or he could attempt to pick the best battlefield he can, the best weapons he can, and then see what happens.

“Which country most favors werewolves?” Sirius asks. He knows that Miriam is aware of Remus’ furry little problem, and Stefano certainly knows. He’d let a few things slip during their week-long interlude.

Miriam hesitates. “France, but only by a hair. Britain has passed a few slightly more restrictive laws. But Sirius—” She pauses, and shoots Remus an apologetic look. “Having Remus here is not going to look good, not to the British Ministry, not to the French, and not to the ICW.”

Before Remus can even say anything, Sirius snaps, “Don’t even think about it, Moony. I’ll take Wolfsbane international if I have to.”

“Wolfsbane?” Miriam queries.

“It’s a potion that allows werewolves to retain their senses during the full moon,” Remus says quietly. “And it makes us marginally safer.”

“Not marginally, completely,” Sirius argues. “Assuming you’re not a psychopath like Greyback, which you aren’t. What would that do?”

Stefano whistles. “Why didn’t you lead with that, my friend? You would be willing to make this widely available?”

“I would,” Sirius replies. “I can’t fund the production for werewolves worldwide, but—”

“No, no,” he says, “you mistake my meaning. You would be willing to make the potion available?”

“As long as it was made available to werewolves, yes,” Sirius hedges. “Preferably for next to no cost, if not for free.”

Stefano hesitates. “I could see governments requiring the use of the potion.”

“If it’s made available for free, that’s not a bad thing,” Remus says thoughtfully. “There are those who would object, but they are also the ones who eschew human company in the first place, or who couldn’t be trusted not to bite anyone they come across.”

Miriam nods. “Stefano’s right. This is a huge bargaining chip. There are countries who are members of the ICW where werewolves are a much bigger concern. There are…” She trails off. “This could be the thing we need to drive them to act.”

Stefano looks at Remus. “Would you be willing to talk to a few people? Carefully vetted, of course, but it would be helpful if they could hear it from the wolf’s mouth, so to speak.”

Remus nods. “Of course.”

They all look at Sirius expectantly. “I just want to protect the people I love. And if this is what it takes, I’ll do it.”

He feels a little bad for that creator of Wolfsbane sometime in the future, but he hadn’t made it widely available, at least so far as Sirius knows. Why the international community didn’t provide the potion, he’ll never know.

But maybe it has to do more with persecuting the afflicted than it does protecting the innocent.

Stefano nods. “This does change things. Were you the one to come up with the potion?”

Sirius hesitates. “I had help, but they’re no longer with us.”

Remus knows what he means at least, because he swallows hard. “Lily?”

“We didn’t have the time to get it to you,” Sirius says, which is about as close to the truth as he can manage. “But yeah. She sent it through the Quidditch hoop.”

Remus’ smile is just a little bit shaky. “I should have known. Not that I don’t have faith in your abilities, Padfoot, but—”

“Potions was never my strong suit,” Sirius admits.

“Whether that’s true or not, this potion will do wonders,” Stefano says. “I’ll begin speaking with those I trust at the ICW.”

Miriam nods. “I’ll begin putting the paperwork together to apply for citizenship for Harry. Once we have confirmation from the ICW, we can move forward.”

Sirius blows out a breath. “Okay, that sounds good. At least we have a plan.”

He has no idea if it will work, but he knows that he doesn’t want to stay locked in limbo forever, and he certainly doesn’t want to put Harry at risk.

Miriam and Stefano leave shortly afterwards, but not before Stefano hugs Sirius tightly. “You’ve done really well for yourself, Sirius,” he murmurs. “I’m pleased for you.”

“Thanks for your help,” Sirius replies. “It means a lot.”

“Always,” Stefano replies. “We’ll talk soon.”

Miriam and Oscar are sharing a quiet word with Remus, and then they both apparate away. Remus gives him an arch look. “So, that was Stefano, huh?”

Sirius hesitates. It had happened in his first lifetime, on a mission that didn’t repeat itself, but that he still vaguely remembers. He’d been sent to feel out some potential allies outside of England, and Stefano had been one of them.

They spent a memorable week together, gathering resources and information. Stefano had been incredibly helpful, and very kind, and a great distraction.

“He was a good friend at a time when I really needed one,” Sirius admits. “It was just before James and Lily went into hiding.”

Remus grimaces. “After our fight.”

“After our fight,” he confirms. “I asked Dumbledore for a mission, something that would take me out of the country.”

He hadn’t needed that the last time. He and Remus hadn’t been fighting, and he’d wanted to stay close to James and Lily as their Secret Keeper.

“Because of me?” Remus asks.

“That was one of the reasons,” Sirius admits. “I just needed something different, Moony, and that’s what I got. That’s what Stefano was to me. And now, he’s just a good friend, someone who’s offered to help us.”

“I’m not jealous,” Remus says, amused. “I’m very well aware that you’ve had other friends and lovers before me.”

Sirius takes a deep breath. “So, what now?”

“Right now, I’m going to send a patronus to Louise to confirm that Harry will stay with them tonight, and then we’re going to bed,” Remus says. “What happens after that is up to you.”

Sirius reaches for him, and Remus meets him halfway, his lips warm and welcoming, his fingers tangling in Sirius’ hair. It feels like coming home.

“We’re going to be fine,” Remus murmurs. “And we have a chance to bring Wolfsbane to people who would really benefit from it.”

“We do,” Sirius replies. “I’m glad you’re here with me now, Moony.”

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

Remus sends the patronus to Louise, and then they go to bed, and Remus takes him apart with his hands and his mouth.

With no Harry down the hall, Sirius doesn’t have to worry about staying quiet, and he can relax into Remus’ ministrations.

Not that he doesn’t want Harry with him, but it’s nice to have some adult time.

At the end of it, Sirius curls up into Remus, who just holds him. Sirius had forgotten just how starved for human contact he was, and Remus gives unstintingly.

“Sleep, Padfoot,” he murmurs. “I’m right here.”

Sirius does as he’s told.

~~~~~

Sirius is the first to wake up the next morning, feeling refreshed and optimistic. Remus is sprawled out on the bed beside him, snoring lightly, and Sirius grins at him fondly.

He rolls out of bed as gently as possible, not wanting to disturb Remus. He finds a pair of jeans on the floor that seem reasonably clean, and a clean t-shirt from the shelf in his closet.

There’s a two-day-old loaf of bread in the fridge and a half dozen eggs, plus a few sausages, and Sirius starts to make French toast. He starts the kettle and breakfast and hums under his breath.

It hits him then that he feels settled, and maybe it’s because he has everything he wanted—he has Harry and Remus, and a plan for moving forward.

And he’d slept the night through.

“Well, look at you,” Remus says as he enters the kitchen, his eyes still half-lidded with sleep. “Cooking and humming.”

“I had a good night,” Sirius says with a wink.

Remus drops a kiss on the back of his neck. “Is the kettle still hot?”

“Should be,” Sirius replies. “Are you hungry?”

“I could definitely eat, and it smells delicious.” He starts preparing a cup of tea. “Do you want anything?”

“I still have some coffee left,” Sirius replies, “but thank you.”

Remus sits down at the table, and Sirius realizes that Remus is wearing one of his shirts. Not that he minds; it’s a good look on him.

“You look happy,” Remus says.

“I guess I’m just realizing that I made the right decision,” Sirius replies. 

Remus raises his eyebrows. “What decision is that?”

Sirius knows he can’t tell Remus about the Veil and the doors. He’s tried before, and he hadn’t been able to force the words out. Maybe those other doors would have yielded good results in time, but he’s very happy with his decision at the moment.

“Grabbing Harry?” Sirius hazards. “Coming here? Doing whatever it was I did to get you here?”

Remus laughs. “Possession _is_ nine-tenths of the law.”

“That’s what I thought,” Sirius replies. “It’s just good to have you here, Moony. It’s a little like old times.”

Remus shakes his head fondly. “I don’t know what old times you’re talking about. We have Harry and the beginnings of a menagerie in the French countryside, and we’re going toe-to-toe with Dumbledore, the British Ministry, and possibly the ICW. I don’t know about you, but I’ve never done any of those things before.”

And of course it wouldn’t be old times to Remus, not when he doesn’t hear the same echoes of that almost-life Sirius lived.

“Maybe it’s just my own foolish hopes,” Sirius replies lightly.

Remus’ expression is soft. “Not so foolish, Padoot.”

Sirius dishes up breakfast for the both of them, and they both tuck in. The silence is comfortable and familiar, and Sirius has the knowledge that Remus is behind him completely. It’s what he’d wanted, and never thought he would have in this time.

Harry comes back later that morning, and they walk down to the village for groceries. They don’t have many more days like this ahead, since the summer will be over in just two short weeks.

But that will hopefully give Miriam and Stefano the chance to make the moves they need to make. In the meantime, they’ll enjoy the rest of their summer.

~~~~~

They pack up and head for their flat in Paris the weekend before Harry is due to start school. Sirius remembers the mad rush to get to the Hogwarts Express, but that’s not necessary now, and Sirius wants to walk Harry to school for his first day.

Tibere handles apparition better than most animals, and the puffskein really isn’t bothered by much of anything. Their luggage is limited to their trunks, since they have everything else they need at the flat already.

Because they’ve spent time setting everything up, it feels a lot like coming home, and in spite of what’s been said, Remus quietly stows his trunk on his side of Sirius’ bed.

Sirius grins. He likes the fact that Remus has his own side of the bed now.

He catches Remus’ eyes, and Remus snorts. “Yes, Padfoot. I’m in it for the long haul.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Sirius protests.

“Your face said everything,” Remus replies drily. “But I want to be here, and I know it’s not charity. It’s your way of taking care of people you care about.”

“Now you’ve got it,” Sirius replies, hanging up the rest of his clothing in the armoire. “It was never about charity with you, and I know James felt the same way.”

Remus sighs. “Did James and Lily know?”

Sirius doesn’t ask what Remus means, but he’s not exactly sure how to answer. He suspects James at least had known the last time Sirius had been a teenager. He’s not sure about the first time around, and once again, he’s getting his timelines tangled.

“I don’t know,” Sirius finally says. “I think James might have guessed, and Lily probably did as well. We never really talked about it, though. I like to think that they’d be happy that we’re both here for Harry.”

“I certainly hope so,” Remus murmurs, hanging his robes next to Sirius’ and then reaching out to pull Sirius in for a kiss. “But James and Lily were always the generous sort.”

There are a lot of errands to run. They have to get a few last-minute things from Harry’s school supplies list, and pick up his uniforms and the rest of Remus’ new clothes. Harry tries everything on, and it all fits.

In fact, he looks quite sharp in the charcoal gray trousers, white shirt, and black and red striped tie. The black blazer with its red piping and school crest give Harry’s thin shoulders a little breadth. Sirius can tell that Harry can sense it as well, because he stands up a little straighter, and has a proud smile.

“You look great, Pronglet,” Sirius says. “You’ll be breaking hearts in no time.”

Harry flushes. “I don’t really want to break anybody’s heart.”

“I think you might do just that without even meaning to,” Sirius replies. “But that’s the burden we pay for being such handsome devils.”

Harry glances away, but he looks pleased by the comment.

“Let’s make sure Remus’ new clothes fit, and then we have to run a few more errands,” Sirius says. “But you’ve been such a good sport, I think we can probably swing by the bookstore after all that.”

Harry’s flush deepens. “You don’t have to. I don’t mind.”

“I know I don’t have to do it, but reading is good for you,” Sirius replies. “And that doesn’t mean we have to buy anything. Browsing is perfectly acceptable as well.”

One of these days, he hopes that Harry will accept Sirius spoiling him a bit—if buying him all the books he likes could even be considered spoiling him.

Remus’s new clothes fit him really well, and he wears one outfit out of the shop, a pair of black trousers with a blue shirt under black robes. The colors suit him, and fit him well, and Sirius can tell that Remus feels better, because his shoulders are back.

Sirius is a big believer in the clothes making the man, and in feeling better when you have comfortable clothing that fits well. He’s noticed a difference in Harry as well, now that he has clothing that actually fits.

They pick up the rest of what they need, including treats for Tibere and Hermes, and then grab dinner—sandwiches from a little cafe a few blocks away from their flat.

Sirius can imagine their lives just like this—dinners out and mundane errands, and a life more ordinary than not. At one point, Sirius would have insisted that he wanted something more exciting, but that time has passed. Right now, he’d give his right arm for a completely uneventful life—to send Harry to school, to spend time with Remus, and to maybe figure out what their next steps are, something meaningful, but nothing terribly exciting.

Sirius is all about a meaningful, quiet life these days. After all, he’s already died once. He’s not interested in courting death again.

They don’t end up buying anything from the bookstore, since Harry can’t make up his mind between half a dozen, and Sirius decides to be responsible and make him pick two. Harry decides he needs some time to decide.

Sirius and Remus get Harry to bed, and Remus slings an arm over his waist. It’s becoming familiar, and routine, and Sirius doesn’t want to ever take it for granted.

Harry’s first day of school arrives, and Sirius and Remus walk him to the gate. And then they look at each other, and Sirius says, “I have no idea what to do now.”

Remus laughs softly. “I think this is why some people go back to work after their kids go to school.”

“I don’t think I’d go that far,” Sirius replies, returning the smile. “But I think we should probably make some plans.”

“If you go back to England, will you take the Black seat on the Wizengamot?” Remus asks.

That’s a question that Sirius isn’t sure how to answer. He isn’t sure that’s an option in this time, but it’s something he should probably consider. “I might, if my name is cleared,” Sirius replies. “Why?”

“Dating a werewolf isn’t going to endear you to anyone,” Remus points out.

“You say that as if I care,” Sirius replies lightly. “And remember the Wolfsbane? I think we have our own ammunition.”

“You would have to get the wizarding world to admit that we’re actually people first,” Remus mutters.

Sirius has an idea of just what people are going to say when they find out that he and Remus are together, and it won’t be kind, but he’s found that he doesn’t much give a fuck. He’s long past the point where he cares about what anyone thinks of him.

“Well, that’s a battle I’m happy to help you fight, or to fight for you,” Sirius replies. “But I think we might need a refresher course on the law. I’d like to know what we’re up against, even if we do have Miriam on our side.”

Remus gives him a frankly disbelieving look. “Research, huh?”

“I’m fully capable of researching things,” Sirius defends.

Remus snorts. “You preferred action before.”

Sirius feels a bit stung. “I researched Wolfsbane, didn’t I? Lily helped, but I did a lot of the legwork.”

“I’m sorry, Pads,” Remus replies, immediately apologetic. “You’re right, and that was badly done on my part.”

“No, you’re not wrong,” Sirius says, knowing that he and Remus are still getting to know each other. He has to remember that Remus has only known one version of Sirius, and not the one who had forgone the prank on Snape that could have gone horribly awry, who had teamed up with Lily to create Wolfsbane, who had been different enough to alarm his friends.

_This_ version of himself had been reckless and unkind, even if he’d also been loyal and brave. He hadn’t been the friend that Remus deserved.

“I wasn’t a good friend to you,” Sirius admits, because he’s never actually apologized for a lot of his past actions. “I should have done better.”

Remus frowns. “What are you talking about?”

“I let you down in a hundred different ways, Moony,” Sirius admits quietly. “I can’t believe you were even willing to give me a chance after all of that.”

Remus sighs. “No more than I failed you, Pads. I should have known you wouldn’t betray James and Lily.”

“I think we’ve been over this,” Sirius replies. “There was nothing you could have done.”

Remus gives him a look. “So? We both have done things we regret at this point, but we’re here now, and we have Harry to worry about, so let’s not rehash old wrongs. You’re not the same person you were when we were in Hogwarts, or during the war. Neither am I. I only have to see you with Harry to understand that.”

Sirius looks at him. “And if you think I’m bollocksing it up, I need to know. I trust you to tell me that.”

“Deal,” Remus says easily. “You’re doing great, by the way.”

Sirius snorts. “I’m in over my head.”

“Harry thinks you hung the moon,” Remus counters. “And he’s not wrong to do so.”

Sirius looks away, unable to respond to that. “Let’s see what we can find in the library.”

They haven’t had as much time as they’d hoped to strengthen the wards on the flat, and Sirius would like to ensure that it’s as protected as possible. Among the books he brought with him from the farmhouse is a family grimoire that Sirius can only access as the head of the House of Black.

And in that book, he finds instructions for wards against Dementors.

Sirius isn’t terribly surprised. The Blacks have always skirted the edge of what’s acceptable, at least in recent memory, and they would want protection from the Ministry’s tools.

“What have you got?” Remus asks.

“A way to ward the flat against Dementors,” Sirius replies. “Apparently, my grandfather thought that was a thing that needed to happen.”

Remus shrugs. “Dementors are dark creatures. Your family might be dark, but I’m sure your grandfather was aware that he might have to deal with Dementors at some point. Are you going to work that into the wards?”

“I think I have to,” Sirius replies. “There’s always the chance that the British Ministry will send Dementors after me.”

Remus grimaces. “True. Let’s take things one at a time, then, and see if we can get that taken care of now.”

The wards are easily updated to repel Dementors by building a patronus into them. Once Sirius understands the mechanics, he can’t believe he hadn’t thought of doing that himself.

“I should have thought of this,” Sirius mutters once the wards are done.

“Most people wouldn’t,” Remus points out.

Sirius shrugs. “Most people don’t need to worry about Dementors in the first place. We’re not most people.”

He still remembers the fear he felt, the knowledge that he was about to be Kissed, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

“We’re going to be fine,” Remus promises. “This is just a precaution.”

Sirius nods. “I know. We’ll have to do the same for the farmhouse, too.”

“The wards here are as strong as they’re going to be without putting the flat under a Fidelius,” Remus says.

Sirius takes a deep breath. “I suppose so.” He glances at the clock. “Looks like it’s time to get Harry.”

School is just letting out when they arrive, and Harry walks out with Lionel and a group of other boys, all of them laughing and chattering. Harry has a smile on his face, and he looks comfortable and happy.

“There they are,” Harry says. “See you later!”

“Bye, Harry!” Lionel calls cheerfully, and the other boys echo him.

“Did you have a good day, pup?” Sirius asks as they begin to walk back to the flat.

“It was so great!” Harry says enthusiastically. “I’m in Lionel’s class, and his friends were all really nice to me!”

“As they should be,” Remus replies.

Sirius puts his arm around Harry’s shoulders. “I’m glad you like your new school.”

It’s one less thing to worry about, anyway. If Harry is happy here, that’s really all that matters.

~~~~~

The first couple of weeks of school, Harry settles in, and Sirius and Remus continue their research. Sirius wants to know more about the laws around werewolves, and what he’s going to need to change, what they need to fix.

From what he’s been able to find out, Miriam had been correct. The laws in France regarding werewolves are less restrictive, and things in England recently got worse with the Wizengamot passing a slate of new laws affecting werewolves and other creatures wizards view as beneath them.

Sirius knows that he won’t go back to England until he’s certain Remus will be safe—at least as safe as Sirius can make him.

At least they have the Wolfsbane, and even if Remus does insist on spending the night of the full moon at the farmhouse, he has a safe place to sleep it off.

He glances up from his book when he hears a tapping on the window, and glances up to see Miriam’s owl. Remus is the first to get up, and he allows it to come inside, untying the letter from its foot and handing it to Sirius.

“It’s the paperwork for Harry,” Sirius says as he scans the documents. “It looks like she’s put most of it together, and just needs a couple of signatures.”

“Are you okay with this plan?” Remus asks. “Because there are probably other options.”

“Maybe, but are there better options?” Sirius replies. “Because I don’t think there are.”

Remus shrugs in a way that tells Sirius he’s willing to go in whatever direction Sirius chooses, but really, Sirius already knows the right answer. He’s not even sure why he’s dragging his feet.

“Just because it’s not exactly the life that James and Lily planned for Harry to have doesn’t mean it’s a bad life,” Remus points out. “They’d want Harry to be safe and happy, and he is both of those things here.”

Sirius knows Remus is right, and he quickly signs the paperwork to send back to Miriam. “I guess we’re doing this.”

He wonders how long they’ll have to wait for a response, or whether they’ll get a response at all.

Sirius honestly doesn’t think he’d mind if they never got a response. They’re making a comfortable life here for themselves, and Harry is happy and loves his school.

Maybe it would be better if nothing happened at all.

Things are quiet for the first couple of weeks, and Sirius lets down his guard slightly. He begins to believe that nothing _will_ happen, that the Ministry and Dumbledore decided to leave them alone.

It’s not that they stop taking precautions; it’s that they have no idea what precautions to take that they haven’t taken already.

And while Sirius knew that the Ministry might send Dementors after him, he hadn’t expected to be attacked by the creatures on a busy street in _Paris_ , not with so many innocents around him.

They’re out running errands, stopping to get a few things that Harry needs for school, and some things that they need for the flat, mundane items like toiletries and kitchen staples. Sirius needs to run by Gringotts, and he offers to leave Harry and Remus at the bookstore so as not to bore them, but Harry insists that he doesn’t mind, and Sirius likes having Harry with him.

They’ve finished their errands and are walking back to the flat, and Sirius asks Harry, “What do you want for dinner tonight, pup?”

Harry shrugs. “I don’t care. Maybe that place where we got the soup?”

“That was pretty good,” Remus agrees. “I wouldn’t mind going back there.”

Sirius feels a chill that has nothing to do with how he feels about the choice of restaurant—a bistro not far from their flat that specializes in classic French cooking. He’d been feeling pretty good up until that moment, but the chill turns into utter dread and suddenly Sirius is back in Azkaban.

He’s in his cell, and has no hope of getting out, clinging to the thought of his innocence, reliving his worst memories.

Sirius feels a sharp pain in his face, and he’s back on a street in Paris under a darkening sky. Remus’ hands are on his shoulders, and Sirius feels the stinging heat in his face from where Remus slapped him.

“Snap out of it!” Remus snaps. “There are innocents here!”

Sirius’ eyes go to Harry, who’s white-faced and trembling. “Use the portkey, pup,” Sirius says hoarsely. He wonders if he’d been screaming, because his throat is scratchy. “Go to the flat. The Dementors can’t go there. If we don’t meet you there, use the portkey to go to the farmhouse, and go straight to Louise. Do you understand?”

Harry seems frozen in misery, and Sirius snaps, “Harry! Go! Just like we practiced!”

That seems to break Harry out of his paralysis, and he grabs the medallion hanging around his neck and says, “Puffer.” He disappears in a swirl.

“Are you good?” Remus asks, his wand in his hand.

Sirius is definitely _not_ good, but he doesn’t have a choice. He pulls his wand and tries to summon a happy memory. He has plenty to choose from, but he can see the Dementors closing in on them, and all he can feel is despair.

Remus grabs him by the back of the head and kisses him hard, teeth clashing, no finesse whatsoever, but it gives Sirius something else to focus on, a reminder of what he has, and what he stands to lose if he doesn’t pull himself together.

Remus releases him a second later and immediately turns to cast _expecto patronum_. Sirius can see about twenty Dementors, and there are people on the street, some frozen in misery, some crying, but no one is running away. Sirius has no idea if the Dementors are focused on him or if they’ll go after those on the street.

He knows that he doesn’t have a choice but to summon every ounce of fortitude he has and fight. Harry is counting on him.

Sirius thinks of Harry that first night at the farmhouse, his bright grin as he realized they were home, and he wouldn’t have to go back to the Dursleys ever. He remembers Harry’s birthday party, and seeing him come out of the school with Lionel and his new friends, of Harry reading a book with Nigel in his lap, serving as a willing resting place, and Tibere anchoring his legs.

Sirius thinks about Remus and warm, hard kisses, and all of these things pass through his head in a split second. It’s all he needs to cast the charm.

“ _Expecto patronum_!” Sirius roars, and the large Grim that erupts from the end of his wand goes for the nearest Dementor’s throat. Remus’ wolf is just as solid and has already taken out another two.

It takes concentrated effort and will in order to sustain the charm, and Sirius keeps those happy memories at the forefront of his mind.

He feels the shifting of the air that indicates there are skilled wizards and witches apparating in, and he recognizes the uniforms of the French Aurors. Sirius really doesn’t want to answer questions from the authorities, but then he notices that there are other bystanders on the street who are also casting the charm.

They might not have to confess that the Dementors are here for Sirius, or perhaps it won’t matter.

The British are the only ones to use Dementors in their prisons; other countries have different methods of keeping their prisons secure that don’t involve dark creatures. Sirius has no idea whether those methods are more or less humane than the Dementors, but at least they can’t be used outside the prison walls against innocents.

Sirius sags when the last of the Dementors are gone, and then he sees the Healers show up with large bars of chocolate to hand out.

There appears to be a lot of confusion as to why the Dementors were there in the first place, and while the Aurors ask for names and addresses for possible later follow-up. Sirius knows it would just raise more questions if they refused, or tried to leave without speaking to the Aurors.

He’s not above using Harry as a reason to leave hastily, however.

“My godson was with us, and we sent him on to our flat,” Sirius tells the Auror who’s questioning him. “I’d like to check on him.”

“Take a chocolate bar with you,” the Auror replies. “How old is he?”

“Just turned eight this summer,” Sirius says. “He has an emergency portkey.”

The Auror, and Sirius cannot remember his name for the life of him, nods. “Great protection if you can afford it.”

“It was worth it,” Sirius replies honestly.

The Auror waves them away. “We know how to get in touch with you if necessary, although I doubt we’ll need to do so. The British Ministry will be hearing about this, you can be sure of it.”

Sirius nods, and he and Remus hurry towards the flat and to Harry. “That went far better than I expected,” Remus murmurs.

“The Ministry didn’t want to advertise my escape, and the news didn’t quite make it here,” Sirius replies. “They would have no way of knowing that the Dementors were here for me.”

Remus shakes his head, but doesn’t reply otherwise.

Sirius takes the stairs two at a time and feels the wards as he steps into the flat, finding Harry sitting on the floor in the middle of the living area, Nigel in his arms and Tibere in his lap. His face is streaked with tears, his eyes red.

Tibere jumps out of Harry’s lap as soon as Sirius enters, allowing Harry to scramble to his feet, Nigel still in his arms. Sirius sweeps him up in a hug, holding him close. “Are you alright, Harry?”

“What were those things?” Harry sobs into Sirius’ neck.

“They were Dementors,” Sirius says. “They feed on fear and unhappy memories.”

“I heard a man and woman screaming,” Harry sobs.

“Oh, pup,” Sirius murmurs. “Those were your parents’ voices.”

Harry just sobs harder.

Sirius knows that having his parents’ voices be associated with terror is a heavy burden for such a little boy, and he rocks him gently.

He can hear Remus entering behind him, going to the hob to start the kettle for tea. Sirius settles a little more comfortably on the floor, pulling Harry into his lap, puffskein and all.

Sirius holds him close and feels a heavy object resting on his knee, and sees Tibere. Sirius scratches behind the Kneazle’s ears in gratitude, knowing that Tibere had kept Harry safe.

The kettle whistles, and Harry jumps a little. “Shh,” Sirius soothes. “Your Uncle Moony is just making us some tea.”

Harry snuffles against his neck, and Sirius keeps rocking him until he stills. He carries Harry up the stairs to the loft and tucks him in, Tibere following, crawling into bed next to Harry and resting his head on Harry’s chest.

“Good job,” Sirius murmurs, scratching Tibere’s ears again.

Remus has a cup of hot chocolate waiting for him. “We probably should have given Harry some chocolate.”

“I don’t think he stopped crying long enough to get it down,” Sirius replies. “When he wakes up, though.”

“How are you?” Remus asks.

Sirius stares down at the table, running his finger along the grain. He’s not sure how to answer that question. He’s not entirely okay, but he’s alive, and Harry is safe. “I’ll probably have nightmares tonight.”

“That’s a given,” Remus replies. “I think you should take Dreamless Sleep.”

Sirius shudders. “Moony. I can’t. If anything happens…”

“I can side-along you, and Harry has his portkey,” Remus replies quietly. “I understand that you’re unsettled and on edge, and you have every right to be uneasy, but you need to sleep tonight.”

Sirius runs a hand through his hair. “I think we may need to make a strategic retreat to the farmhouse.”

“We’ll reinforce the wards there as well,” Remus agrees. “And once Harry’s teachers know that he was exposed to Dementors, they’ll understand why he needs a leave of absence.”

Sirius nods. “Okay.”

“Come here,” Remus orders roughly. He stands up and pulls Sirius into a hug. “I’ll get the potion.”

“Harry didn’t eat dinner,” Sirius mutters.

“If he wakes up hungry, he knows how to make a snack,” Remus counters. “He’ll be fine.”

Sirius allows Remus to manage him, because he’s suddenly so very tired. He wants to sleep, and he trusts Moony, and he doesn’t want to have nightmares. The potion will give him that.

Maybe he should have taken that first door. Sirius doubts he would have to deal with Dementors with an ocean between him and them.

But then Remus undresses him with exquisite gentleness and hands him the Dreamless Sleep, and he strokes Sirius’ hair until the potion takes effect.

And as the potion takes him under, Sirius isn’t sure he has any regrets, after all.

~~~~~~

He wakes up slowly, still feeling—bruised is the best descriptor he can come up with, although his insides, not his outsides.

Sirius stretches, still feeling a bit drugged, but he knows Remus had been right. He needed the sleep, and he feels far more clear-headed now than he would have if he’d had nightmares, or had simply chosen not to sleep at all.

Remus and Harry’s voices filter in from the other room, Remus patiently answering Harry’s questions based on the sounds—Harry’s inquiring tones, Remus’ soft tenor.

Sirius pulls his bag out from under the bed, throwing in some clothes, since he knows he hadn’t left much at the farmhouse. He finds clean clothing in the wardrobe and quickly slips into the bathroom. The hot water from the shower finishes clearing his head. Sirius knows there are wizards who prefer to use a cleaning charm instead of a bath or shower, but he’s never understood that.

Sure, if there isn’t water available, the cleaning charms are great, but Sirius regards that as a last resort.

When he emerges from the bathroom, Remus has a cup of coffee waiting for him, as well as a pastry, and Sirius gives him a grateful smile. “Thanks.”

“Feeling better?” Remus asks.

“Much,” Sirius replies, sitting down and taking a bite out of his pastry—chocolate-filled, of course. “How about you, pup?”

“Better,” Harry agrees, and there’s a smear of chocolate at the corner of his mouth. “Uncle Moony says we’re going to the farmhouse.”

“Just for a few days,” Sirius replies. “It will give us a chance to recover. I’ll send Madame Barre a note to excuse you.”

Harry bites his lip. “Can I send a message to Lionel? He might worry.”

“Certainly,” Sirius agrees. “Write a note, and I’ll make sure it gets sent. Pack a few things, too, okay?”

Harry nods and goes to grab parchment and a pen. He’s still more proficient with a Muggle writing implement than he is a quill, but they have time to work on it.

A lot of Muggle-borns struggle with using a quill because it’s unfamiliar, only to be castigated for their poor penmanship, depending on the professor. Sirius doesn’t plan on allowing Harry to attend school unprepared.

Sirius finishes his pastry and coffee while Harry is still laboring over the letter to Lionel, and he dashes off a note to Madame Barre, before going to Harry’s room to pack his things. He has a better idea of what Harry had left behind—all of the clothing not fit for polite company, but nothing terribly warm.

Harry has a few sweaters and a couple of sweatshirts, as well as jeans and woolen trousers. He packs up for a few days, figuring that they’ll buy more clothing if necessary if they can’t return to Paris.

Sirius rather hopes it doesn’t come to that, but there’s really no telling, not when Dementors have come to them.

By the time Harry has finished his note, Sirius has him packed up and ready to go, and Remus has packed his own bag as well. Harry holds the puffskein, and Sirius picks up Tibere.

“Are we ready?” Sirius asks.

Harry nods. “Ready.”

A retreat to the farmhouse is in order, just long enough to know whether the Dementors had been sent as part of some greater scheme, or if it had just been a fluke.

The farmhouse is as welcoming as it always has been, and Sirius breathes a sigh of relief.

“Do you think we should put it under a Fidelius?” Sirius asks.

Remus shakes his head. “Not yet. We have time for that if necessary.”

“Let’s get the wards set up to repel Dementors,” Sirius replies. “I won’t rest easy until that’s done.”

“Can I go flying?” Harry asks.

Sirius regretfully has to nix that idea. “Not until the wards are in place, pup. If Dementors turn up while you’re in the air, that would be bad.”

Harry immediately gets a frightened look on his face. “Are they going to come here?”

“No, we don’t think so, but it’s better to be safe than sorry,” Remus says, hurrying to reassure Harry. “Let’s not put ourselves at risk, right?”

Harry nods uncertainly. “Okay. I think I’ll go read.”

He’s carrying Nigel, and Tibere trots after him. Sirius glances at Remus. “Was that the wrong thing to say?”

“No, Harry’s safety has to come first, and the wards need to get done before he can fly,” Remus replies firmly.

Having already done it once before, Sirius and Remus make short work of updating the wards. Besides, those around the farmhouse are Black wards, eager to protect the head of the Black family. He’s grateful for that fact, because it’s a little harder to call up the feelings he needs in order to cast a patronus.

Still, they’re in a place that feels secure, where he’s had nothing but happy memories, where he’d spent so much time with Harry. The patronus at least comes, and the wards get updated with the additional protection.

The effort exhausts him, though, and he sags when it’s done.

“Go take a nap,” Remus says. “I’ll let Harry know that he can break out the broom.”

Sirius scrubs his hands over his face. “This is ridiculous, Moony.”

“You used up a lot of reserves yesterday, and it’s natural to be exhausted,” Remus points out. “And you always make me nap after a full moon.”

Sirius can’t argue with that logic, since he does make Remus rest after a full moon. “Thanks.”

“I’ll take care of dinner, too,” Remus says. “Just go relax.”

It feels good to have that kind of a partnership, to know that Sirius can trust Remus to pick up the slack where he falters.

He collapses on their bed, and even though the afternoon sunlight is streaming through the window, he’s asleep immediately.

Sirius wakes abruptly from a nightmare, feeling the chill of a Dementor’s proximity, quickly dispelled when he sees Harry sitting cross-legged on his bed, and when he feels Tibere’s heavy weight on his stomach.

The room is warm, and he’s sweating a bit, and that’s immediately reassuring. “Hey, pup.”

Harry looks up from the book he’s reading. “You’re awake.”

“I just needed a bit of a rest, love,” Sirius replies. “What are you reading?”

“Wanna see?” Harry asks.

Sirius lifts up an arm. “I do, as a matter of fact.”

Harry snuggles against him, and Tibere is a patient book prop for Harry’s most recent find, a book on important French wizards and witches he’s reading for school.

He’s reading at his grade level in French now, and Harry flips around, pointing out his favorite parts. Harry likes the clever ones, the brave ones, the ones who can think their way out of a problem.

Sirius wonders if he would still be sorted into Gryffindor now. He could see Harry in any of the houses, although he’d rather him not be in Slytherin. Just from the danger factor alone.

“Was Joan of Arc a witch?” Harry asks. “She’s not in the book.”

“No one is really sure,” Sirius admits. “But the prevailing theory is that she was a Squib.”

Harry starts to pull away. “Sorry. I’m being a baby.”

Sirius squeezes his shoulders. “There’s nothing wrong with a cuddle, Harry. Your dad gave excellent hugs. So did your mom, and your uncle Moony is great at it, too. I figure I need the practice to get that good.”

Harry snorts, but he stops trying to pull away and instead settles down. “What happens to Squibs?”

“That depends on the family, to be honest,” Sirius replies. “Some prefer to ignore their existence, while others try to include them as much as possible, and provide for their lives outside the magical world.”

“There are Squibs that go to my school,” Harry says.

“And that’s pretty unusual, and very progressive,” Sirius admits. “It’s one of the reasons I liked the school. I think it’s silly for wizards to be incapable of navigating the Muggle world, and terribly harsh to force Squibs to separate from their family too soon.”

Harry hesitates. “What if I were a Squib?”

Sirius pretends to think about it. “Well, your handwriting would still need work, and we’d certainly have to find another sport to play since Quidditch would be out. You’d be stuck with the Muggle way to do chores, and I wouldn’t let you get out of them just because you didn’t have magic. We’d probably do a lot more Muggle activities.” He pauses. “Why do you ask?”

“I just wondered if you’d still like me if I didn’t have magic,” Harry says. “The Dursleys would, and maybe you would, too. I wouldn’t have felt the Dementors. But maybe you wouldn’t have wanted me if I didn’t have magic.”

Sirius had wanted to interrupt him, but he thought it best to let Harry spit out all of his worries. “Magic doesn’t make the man, Harry. Magic makes you a wizard, but not having magic doesn’t make you any less special. Your parents would have loved you no matter what, and so do I.”

Harry cuddles in closer. “I’m glad I have magic.”

“I am, too, but I wouldn’t have minded if you didn’t,” Sirius replies. Although he wonders whether the Dursleys would have been kinder had Harry been a Squib.

Then again, Sirius doubts it.

Harry wriggles free. “Are you getting up soon?”

“Just need to freshen up, pup,” Sirius assures him. “I’ll be right down.”

He wonders if he should make a habit of cuddling with Harry. Merlin knows that Sirius didn’t have any role models that offered that sort of physical comfort. Harry hasn’t had it either.

Sirius sometimes wonders if he’s equipped for this parenthood thing. James and Lily would have done a lot better, no doubt.

But he’s the only parent Harry has, so he’ll just have to do his best.

Sirius splashes water on his face and pulls his hair back into some semblance of order. He feels a lot better, partly because of the nap, and partly just because they’re back in the farmhouse. Sirius has nothing but happy memories here.

Remus has somehow found the time to get food for dinner, and he’s stirring a pot on the stove while keeping an eye on the cheese toasties in the pan.

“Are you feeling better?” he asks solicitously.

“I am,” Sirius replies. “Did you go to the market?”

“We didn’t have anything here,” Remus replies. “I asked Harry to sit with you while I went.”

“Thanks,” Sirius replies, and would like to say more, but words are beyond him at the moment. Maybe Remus knows that, because he just smiles softly.

That night, Sirius isn’t surprised when Harry has nightmares, and he hurries to Harry’s room, pulling him into a hug, puffskein and all. Tibere is at the end of the bed, watching with his one good eye, making chirping noises.

Harry isn’t calming down, and Sirius shifts into Padfoot on instinct. Harry immediately buries his face into Sirius’ fur, and Tibere flanks him, curling up against Harry’s back.

Sirius lifts his head slightly when Remus pokes his head into the room, huffing softly in response to the raised eyebrows he gets. Remus nods and retreats.

Sirius falls asleep shortly after Harry finally does, and he sleeps like the dead.

Maybe he should spend more time as Padfoot.

~~~~~

Harry seems rather subdued the next day, and Sirius hates that he’d been exposed to Dementors, particularly at his age.

“Are you all right, Harry?” Remus asks as they’re eating breakfast.

Harry shrugs. “I guess.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Remus presses gently.

“I think I was dreaming about my parents,” Harry admits. “But it was scary.”

Sirius is at a loss for words, and he hates that Harry’s memories of his parents, vague as they are, are now tainted by fear.

An idea occurs to him, but he wants to talk it over with Remus before he acts on it.

“Maybe we can try to find some pictures of your parents,” Remus suggests quietly. “Something so you can replace the scary memories with good ones.”

Sirius has no idea where they’d come up with pictures, not right now. Most of the people they knew from back then are in England, and are probably on the side of the Ministry and Dumbledore. He might have some in his things, but they’ve been thrown out by now. He’d taken anything of value, including photos, out of his parents’ place.

Although there might be a few things left in the Potters’ cottage. One of these days, when it’s safe, Sirius knows he’ll have to go back and look.

“I don’t have any pictures of them,” Harry admits.

“Well, we’ll see what we can find,” Sirius promises.

“Can I go fly?” Harry asks.

“Sure,” Sirius replies.

Harry runs outside, Tibere trotting along behind him, clearly unwilling to let Harry out of his sight.

Sirius looks at Remus helplessly. “Do you have any pictures?”

“I have some things in storage at my parents’ place,” Remus admits. “But I don’t plan on going back until we’re sure it’s safe.”

“I was thinking there might be another way,” Sirius says hesitantly. “Do you think Harry is too young to review memories in a pensieve?”

“Not if they’re carefully selected,” Remus says slowly. “And if we’re careful about access. I’ve known a few people who get lost in memories that way, especially memories of departed loved ones. Plus, they’re expensive.”

“There’s one in the Black vault,” Sirius replies. “I’d just have to retrieve it.”

Remus nods. “Then I think you should. It might take the edge off the memories the Dementors brought up.”

“Who do you think sent them?” Sirius asks.

“Not Dumbledore,” Remus says definitively. “He always hated the very idea of Dementors, and he wouldn’t have risked innocents like that.”

“But you think the Ministry would have?” Sirius asks.

Remus shakes his head. “I don’t know, Padfoot. Maybe. Or maybe they just didn’t try to stop them.”

Sirius looks around their cozy kitchen, late morning sunlight streaming through the open window. There’s a chill in the air, but it’s nothing like what the Dementors brought. Instead, Sirius can smell the tea Remus is drinking and his own coffee, the slightly musty odor of falling leaves and a hint of dog.

“The full moon is tomorrow,” Remus reminds him.

“You’ve been taking the Wolfsbane,” Sirius replies. “I’m not worried.”

“Nor am I,” Remus replies. “But I’ll be in the other room tonight.”

“You wouldn’t have to,” Sirius says. “I’ll sleep in my fur, and I’ll go join Harry if he has another nightmare.”

Remus gives him a look. “Did you sleep better last night?”

“I haven’t slept as Padfoot in a while,” Sirius admits. “And I did sleep better.”

“Do what you need to do in order to sleep, Pads,” Remus says. “Even if that means I’ll be sharing the bed with your furrier half.”

Sirius huffs a laugh. “I appreciate your sacrifice.”

“It’s not a sacrifice,” Remus says drily. “Padfoot gives off heat like a furnace.” He glances out the window. “Go join Harry. I’ll finish the clean-up in here.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Sirius protests.

Remus gives him a very unimpressed look. “Harry needs you right now, and you need him. And I’ve never been the fan of flying that the two of you are.”

Sirius has to admit that Remus is right about that. He’s never been as Quidditch-mad as James or Peter, nor had he enjoyed flying as much as Sirius.

Sirius grabs the Quaffle and his broom on the way out, and he’s soon in the air with Harry, Tibere watching with a rather dubious expression on his face. Tibere clearly doesn’t approve of flying, but he’s willing to put up with it.

Although, when Harry makes a dive that is just a little too steep to catch the Quaffle, Tibere yowls at him loudly.

But that just causes Harry to giggle so hard he nearly falls off his broom, and Sirius calls, “Let’s take a break, Pronglet. We need to see if your uncle Moony needs help with lunch.”

Harry lands lightly, looking far more cheerful. “Thanks for flying with me, Sirius.”

“Flying always makes me feel better, too,” Sirius admits, mussing Harry’s windblown hair. He stiffens when he sees the translucent patronus approaching. He doesn’t immediately recognize it, but as it wings closer, he knows that it’s Stefano’s raven.

“What’s that?” Harry asks.

“It’s a patronus,” Sirius says. “And it’s from a friend. Stefano is being polite and announcing his arrival before he passes the wards.”

“What do you do if you don’t know how to send a patronus?” Harry asks.

“There are a couple of options,” Sirius replies. “You can do a fire call, or send a message another way. We can talk about all of that later.”

He holds out an arm for the raven. Stefano’s voice emerges from the bird, “I heard about your trouble in Paris, old friend, and I have news. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

The patronus dissipates, leaving Harry wide-eyed. Harry had watched Sirius cast a patronus before, but had never been on the receiving end of a message. “Where did it go?”

“It’s magic, pup,” Sirius replies. “Do you remember that book that Uncle Moony got you about the source of magic?”

It was a beginner’s guide to magical theory, meant to prepare him for arithmancy and ancient runes if he opts for those electives, and Harry has read it twice now. “Oh, yeah. About magic and where it comes from, and how it’s all around us, but it can be channeled?”

“Yes, exactly that,” Sirius replies, amused.

They enter through the kitchen door, and Remus is sitting at the kitchen table, reading a letter that must have come while they were flying.

“Miriam heard about the Dementors, and she’s incensed,” Remus says, glancing up. “She wants to visit, and she thinks we need to take this to the ICW.”

“I’m not willing to just stand by and let the Ministry send Dementors after us,” Sirius replies. “Especially since they would bloody well know that we have Harry by now.”

Remus clears his throat. “Language.”

Sirius snorts. “I’m sure Harry has heard that before.”

“We don’t need to be encouraging strong language,” Remus points out.

“And sometimes there’s no other words for it,” Sirius replies. He glances at Harry. “Strong language shouldn’t be used in polite company, Harry. You know that, right?”

Harry nods. “I understand.”

“See?” Sirius asks. “Harry’s an intelligent boy. He knows better than to use those sorts of words in front of the wrong sort of people.”

Harry grins smugly, obviously appreciating the comment. “Padfoot’s friend is coming, too.”

It’s a neat change of subject, because Remus is immediately distracted. “What friend?”

“Stefano sent his patronus to warn me he would be here in a few minutes,” Sirius replies, just as there’s a knock on the door. “And that’s probably him.”

Still, even though he knows it’s probably Stef, Sirius isn’t taking any chances, and he pulls out his wand. “Stay in the kitchen until I give the all clear, pup.”

Remus takes out his wand as well, resting a hand on Harry’s shoulder to keep him in place. “Do you have your necklace on, Harry?”

Harry nods. “Yeah. You said to wear it at all times.”

“Good lad,” Remus says, his voice drifting down the hall as Sirius approaches the front door.

Sirius glances through the front window as he approaches the door and is relieved to see Stef, but he keeps his wand in his hand. He’s not taking any chances, not with Harry in the house.

Stefano has his hands out, and he’s clearly unarmed, which makes Sirius feel a little better. He stows his wand and opens the door. Stefano keeps his arms open, and Sirius takes the offered hug. They’re old friends at this point, and Sirius appreciates the reminder that he does have friends.

Stefano pulls back to look at him. “You look better than I expected. How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” Sirius insists. “Remus was with me.”

“Good,” Stefano replies. “May I come in?”

“Of course.” Sirius ushers him back to the kitchen where the kettle is whistling. “You remember Remus, of course.”

Stefano greets Remus in the Italian way, with a hug and a kiss on each cheek. “I heard you were quite brave in the face of the Dementors.”

“I was protecting Sirius,” Remus says simply, although he looks pleased. Whether that’s because of Stefano’s compliment or his affectionate acceptance, Sirius doesn’t know.

Although there aren’t many who would respond that way to Remus knowing that he’s a werewolf.

“And you remember Harry,” Sirius adds.

Stefano holds out a hand gravely. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Harry.”

Harry shakes his hand. “It’s nice to see you, too,” he says politely.

“Would you like a cup of tea?” Remus asks.

“I would love one,” Stefano replies. “Thank you.”

It’s all very polite, and Sirius wants nothing more than to get some answers out of Stefano. Still, he doesn’t want to worry Harry any more than he already has.

Harry looks at Sirius with a mulish expression. “I want to stay here.”

“Harry, you don’t need to hear this,” Sirius replies.

“But I want to,” Harry says. “It’s about you, and why the Dementors attacked, and I want to know.”

Sirius glances at Remus, hoping for a voice of reason. Remus grimaces, and then shrugs.

“I don’t think you need to stay, Harry, but I understand why you’d want to, and this might affect you, as well,” Sirius says.

Sirius hopes that Harry gets bored with the conversation and decides to do something else, but he’s not going to force the issue.

Stefano appears somewhat conflicted, but he takes a deep breath and says, “The offer of Wolfsbane was very much appreciated, and it was taken as the gesture of goodwill you meant it to be.”

“That’s good,” Sirius replies, glancing at Remus. “Isn’t it?”

“Well, it might present a few complications, depending on what they do with it, but I think it’s positive overall,” Remus admits.

Stefano smiles. “The thought is that if you were really in league with Voldemort, you wouldn’t be trying to find a way to make werewolves harmless.”

“It’s nice to know that someone has a passing acquaintance with logic,” Remus mutters. “What else?”

“Miriam and Oscar have provided enough information to convince them that you weren’t given a trial, and the British Ministry is refusing to act on reasonable information of your innocence,” Stefano says. “They have been very persuasive in that regard.”

Sirius nods. “That’s good to hear. What did they think about the Dementors showing up in Paris?”

“They were most unhappy,” Stefano replies with a grimace. “You know that most of the other European countries don’t approve of the use of Dementors. They’re dark creatures, and plenty of people believe that the British Ministry’s control over them is imperfect at best.”

“Those people would likely be correct,” Sirius replies, leaning back in his chair. “What is the ICW prepared to do?”

“They’re prepared to offer you a trial,” Stefano says. “Under veritaserum and some very strong honesty hexes, with the results published to the entire wizarding world.”

“What’s the catch?” Remus asks with a frown.

Stefano shrugs. “Just that. The results will be broadcast, whether they are in your favor or not. If the ICW finds you guilty, they’ll turn you over to the British Ministry themselves. You’ll likely face additional charges of escape and kidnapping, and I wouldn’t put it past them to order that you be Kissed.”

Harry whimpers, and Stefano immediately grimaces. “I’m sorry. That was merely speculation on my part.”

“That’s not going to happen, pup,” Sirius assures him. “They’ll dose me with veritaserum, and I’ll tell them the truth, that Peter Pettigrew betrayed your parents. And then the whole world will know that I’m innocent, and that you’re supposed to be with me. No one will question that, or be able to take you away from me.”

“But what if something goes wrong?” Harry protests.

“No risk, no reward, Pronglet,” Sirius replies. “I know it’s scary, but the British Ministry won’t act unless we force their hand, and we won’t be safe until we do. I promised that I wouldn’t leave you, didn’t I?”

“But you might not have a choice,” Harry protests. “They might make me leave you! They might kill you!”

“They’re not going to kill me,” Sirius replies. “Not when they know the truth.”

Sirius feels the depth of those words as he speaks them, knowing that the truth might have saved his life the first time around. If Harry had known his visions could be false, if he’d been given more support, or had an adult he thought he could trust, they might not be here now.

Not that Sirius minds where he’s wound up, mind you, but he’s learned the value of the truth, particularly where Harry is concerned.

Harry worries his bottom lip with his teeth. “But what if they do?”

Sirius doesn’t blame Harry for being worried. He hasn’t had a lot of experience with things going right, and a lot of experience with things going wrong. And a lot of the things that have gone wrong were entirely unfair.

There’s no reason for Harry to believe that the world will treat him fairly, and while Sirius would like to change that, it’s not going to happen until they’re safe.

“I can’t promise that they won’t,” Sirius finally says. “But remember what Stefano said about the ICW being really mad at the British Ministry? They’re going to be fair. They have to be, because the whole world is going to be watching.”

Harry glares at Stefano. “You’re going to bring him home.”

Stefano blinks. “I’ll try.”

“No, you’re going to bring him home,” Harry insists imperiously. “Because it’s your plan, so you have to make sure it works.”

Remus coughs to cover a laugh. “It _is_ your plan.”

Stefano takes a deep breath. “Then I will promise to bring your godfather home to you.”

Tibere meows loudly and jumps up in Harry’s lap, beginning to purr loudly. Harry begins petting him reflexively, and Stefano smiles. “That’s a handsome cat.”

Tibere purrs a little more loudly.

“He _is_ handsome,” Harry agrees. “He’s been through the wars.”

Stefano gets that look on his face that indicates he thinks Harry is being adorable, which a lot of adults seem to wear around him if they’re halfway human. “Scars are badges of courage.”

Harry touches his scar. “Do you really think so?”

“Not all scars are on the outside, but yes, I do,” Stefano says. “And anybody who says differently is someone who isn’t to be trusted, because they’re either lying to you, or they’re trying to make you feel small.”

Harry glances at Sirius. “Can I go flying?”

He knows that Harry has a tendency to shut down when things go too deep, or get too personal, and so Sirius lets him go. “Not too high without us there.”

Harry nods and runs outside.

“He will have a commanding presence when he is an adult,” Stefano comments. “He has a presence even now.”

“Not everyone sees that,” Sirius replies, glancing out the window to see Harry skimming the ground, obediently following his instructions.

Remus clears his throat. “It will serve him well in the future, I’m sure. Even aside from the prophecy.”

“He’ll be my heir, and the heir to the Potter fortune as well,” Sirius says for Stefano’s benefit.

Stefano raises his eyebrows. “Don’t you think that might have something to do with the British Ministry’s desire to control Harry, or at least their desire to makes sure you’re not controlling him?”

“I’m _not_ controlling him,” Sirius says testily. “I just want him to be happy and fulfilled.”

He would also prefer to destroy Voldemort before Harry even has to know of his existence beyond what he already does. But that can wait until Harry’s at school and he has a little more time to devote to the hunt.

“That’s not what the British Ministry will think,” Remus points out. “Stefano makes a good point, which is why I think this plan is the best one we have. This has to play out on a world stage, Sirius, so that no one can question your innocence, or your right to have Harry.”

Sirius trusts Remus’ insight, and he thinks Moony is probably right, and that Stefano’s plan is the best chance they have at accomplishing their goals.

“When are we doing this?” Sirius asks.

“As soon as possible,” Stefano replies. “We need to cut short any other plans the Ministry might have for you, before it can harm Harry any further.”

“When?” Sirius presses.

“If we left tomorrow, that would be ideal,” Stefano admits. “The ICW has already decided that they would convene to address the Dementor attack in Paris.”

Remus clears his throat.

Sirius says, “You’re welcome to stay here tonight, Stef, but it’s the full moon. Remus has been taking his Wolfsbane, but I would understand if you weren’t comfortable with that.”

“No, I’m fine with that,” Stefano says quickly. “But will you be all right tomorrow?”

“The Wolfsbane helps my recovery considerably,” Remus admits. “I should be fine to look after Harry until this is done.” He looks at Sirius. “I’m assuming that’s what you’re going to ask.”

“That’s the great thing about you, Moony,” Sirius replies with a grin. “I didn’t even have to ask.”

Remus snorts, but he doesn’t look displeased. Sirius knows that without the Wolfsbane Remus would never agree to look after Harry, and he’s grateful that he was able to give Remus that much.

And he’s grateful to have a partner.

“Harry will probably be upset,” Remus points out.

Sirius sighs. “He will be, but there’s no help for it. I’m just glad he’ll be able to stay here with you.”

“I’ll keep him safe for you, Padfoot,” Remus promises.

And Sirius knows he can trust Remus to do just that.


	5. Part the Fifth: In Which Sirius Is Finally Vindicated

Sirius doesn’t sleep well that night, torn between being near Remus and being close to Harry in case he has another nightmare. In the end, he sleeps in his fur in the hallway. They’ve given Stefano their bed, whereas Remus has sequestered himself in the room set aside for him.

Harry does, in fact, have a nightmare that night, and Sirius crawls into Harry’s bed and allows Harry to bury his face in his fur. “I don’t want you to go,” Harry mutters.

Sirius whines and noses under Harry’s chin.

“I know you have to go,” Harry whispers. “But I really don’t want you to.”

Sirius just lets Harry cuddle with him in a way that is easier when he’s Padfoot.

He falls asleep after Harry does, and the next morning, he’s not surprised when Harry whines about getting out of bed, clinging to Sirius a little harder.

Sirius allows it for a few minutes, and then he squirms out of Harry’s grip and transforms. “We have to leave soon, pup. I need you to get up now.”

Harry whines but rolls out of bed obediently. Sirius pokes his head into their room, and Stefano is already up. A quick check of Remus’ room indicates that he is also up and about. Sirius gets cleaned up and dresses carefully, then packs a bag.

He’s grateful that he’s had time to gain weight, and looks nothing like the insane convict he had been immediately after escaping. He pulls his hair back into a neat ponytail and pulls on his formal robes, settling them on his shoulders.

Sirius takes a deep breath and reminds himself that he’s innocent, and soon the whole world will know it. That’s what it’s going to take to keep Harry safe, and to keep Harry with him.

He’s always known that it would come to this, or something like this.

Remus is in the kitchen, pale and a little drawn looking as he always is after the full moon, although not nearly as much as before the Wolfsbane potion.

“How are you feeling?” Sirius asks him.

Remus shrugs. “A little sore, but not bad. Is Harry up?”

“He was when I left him,” Sirius says.

Stefano is sitting at the table, drinking a cup of coffee. “Our portkey leaves in 45 minutes.”

Sirius nods. “I’ll be ready.”

Harry comes downstairs a little bit later, while Sirius is finishing up his own cup of coffee. In spite of the tears from the night before, he’s wearing a brave face today.

“How long are you going to be gone, Padfoot?” Harry asks.

“Maybe a day, no more than two,” Sirius promises. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Harry nods and keeps that brave face going all through breakfast, right up until it’s time for their portkey. He gives Sirius a tight hug and doesn’t shed a tear, but he does give Stefano another hard look in a silent warning.

Stefano holds out a hand for Harry to shake. “I keep my promises.”

“Good,” Harry replies, although there’s a dubious note to his voice.

The portkey is an old, stained blue tie, probably from an old Beauxbatons uniform. Remus gives him a quick kiss, and says, “We’ll be here when you get back, Pads.”

And then they’re gone, and standing in the courtyard of the current headquarters of the Supreme Mugwump. Sirius knows that Dumbledore hasn’t been appointed yet; that will come next year, and he’s glad for that. Dumbledore might have interfered in a way that the rest of the ICW couldn’t counteract.

The Supreme Mugwump right now is Italian, although Sirius can’t remember his name. He thinks the man will die next year, leading to Dumbledore taking his place.

“Do you remember the name of the Supreme Mugwump?” Stefano asks in an undertone.

“No,” Sirius admits. “I think I might have been in Azkaban when he was appointed.”

“It was around that time,” Stefano replies. “His name is Daniel Bertolino, and he is not a fan of the British Ministry, or the use of Dementors. He’s tough, but he’s fair.”

Sirius takes a deep breath. “At least they didn’t ask you to bring me here in shackles.”

“As I said, they’ll be fair, but you should know that there have been those who have passed out from the honesty hexes on the chair, especially when under the influence of Veritaserum,” Stefano warns him. “And they’re going to broadcast it on the wireless.”

Sirius has to believe that the Veil won’t allow him to be penalized for what he cannot say. He’s already tried talking about those things before, and he can’t. That doesn’t mean he’s lying.

At least, that’s what he hopes.

The building is in Rome, dating back centuries. It’s vaguely familiar to Sirius, as he'd been here before during the war. They walk in, across white marble floors streaked with gray, up to a large, circular desk made of the same material, and Sirius tries to swallow his nerves.

He knows that he’s innocent. He just has to take the potion and sit in the chair, and speak the truth. Since that’s all he wants, the process should be relatively painless.

“Stefano Padilla with Sirius Black, here for the trial,” Stefano says.

“The delegates have been gathering, gentlemen,” the young witch says. “We expect them to be here by noon. Please, Chiara will show you to a room where you can wait.”

Another young woman shows them to a small antechamber, where there are comfortable chairs and a small table. “Can I bring you coffee? Something else?”

“Coffee would be lovely,” Stefano replies.

They’re using English for his sake, although Sirius knows just enough Italian to get by. He’s grateful for the courtesy, however, because his nerves are preventing him from focusing as much as he’d like.

“Relax, Sirius,” Stefano says in an undertone. “You’ll be fine.”

“And what of Dumbledore?” Sirius asks quietly. “He doesn’t want me to have custody of Harry.”

Stefano shrugs. “The Potters apparently did. What? You think the ICW didn’t query the goblins? We did. We found the sealed agreement. Besides, we all know what it means in the magical world to be asked to stand as someone’s godfather. The whole world knows the Potters chose you.”

“They chose Alice Longbottom as Harry’s godmother,” Sirius points out.

“And both the Longbottoms are in St. Mungo’s with permanent spell damage,” Stefano points out, sounding rather sour. “As you’d likely be if you weren’t made of incredibly strong stuff. That’s the problem with Azkaban, you know.”

“What’s that?” Sirius asks.

“If there’s a mistake made and eventually found, what’s left of the person coming out of that place may very well not be worth saving,” Stefano replies.

Sirius can’t argue with him. He imagines that’s half the reason the British Ministry hadn’t wanted to admit that he might be innocent. It’s all very well and good to imagine the worst of the worst bunged up in that place, but an innocent person? The rest of the wizarding world might start asking very uncomfortable questions.

Or maybe not. Maybe they’d just bury their heads in the sand, thinking it could never happen to them.

Sirius does his best to keep up his share of the conversation, but his nerves are getting the better of him, and he finds himself thinking about Harry, worrying about him, wondering if he’d been upset after Sirius left.

No matter how many times he tells himself that Remus is with him, and Moony will do what’s needed if the worst happens, all Sirius wants is to be back at the farmhouse.

Maybe Stefano understands, because he stops trying to get Sirius to talk and instead focuses on the never-ending, and most excellent, coffee that’s been provided.

Sirius wishes he could enjoy it more. It’s better than what he usually has at home.

He’s not sure how much time has passed when the young woman knocks on the door gently before opening it. “They’re waiting for you, Signore Padilla, Signore Black.”

Sirius stands and straightens his robes, smoothing out the front of his shirt. “Very well.”

Stefano steers Sirius with a hand on his shoulder in a gesture that is probably meant to be comforting. Sirius does his best not to shake it off, because it also feels as though Stefano is preventing him from running.

Not that Sirius _would_ run. That’s not the plan.

The chamber they enter is large with tiered seating shrouded in shadow. Sirius won’t be able to easily determine the identities of those sitting in judgment—except for the Supreme Mugwump, of course, who stands on a dais in front of a rather familiar looking chair.

“Who has requested a trial in front of the International Confederation of Wizards?” Daniel Bertolino asks. He’s a short, wizened man, with only a few wisps of gray hair on his head, and a stooped posture. In spite of his stature, there’s something commanding in his tone, and Sirius isn’t surprised that he’d been selected for the position.

“I have, sir,” Stefano replies in a steady voice. “I have known this man for more than a decade, and he has been a stalwart friend in the past. I am afraid that he has been poorly treated by his country of origin, and has sought refuge outside of Britain.”

“Nonsense!” someone calls from the upper reaches. “He’s a convicted murderer!”

Sirius opens his mouth, only to have Stefano gently step on his foot.

“I also requested this gathering.” Oscar strides forward. “Signore Bertolino, as you well know, my wife is a solicitor in England, and she has been representing Sirius Black. In spite of her efforts, and Mr. Black’s capture of the actual traitor who committed the crimes he is accused of, he has not been offered a trial.”

There are murmurs through the gathered spectators. “You mean he hasn’t been offered a new trial,” Bertolino clarifies.

“No, he hasn’t been offered _any_ trial, which the British Ministry is well aware of,” Oscar replies with some asperity. “After all, my wife has been bombarding them with letters on a near-daily basis for the last several months.”

Bertolino steeples his fingers. “This is most irregular, Oscar. Surely, you understand that. I was told that a gathering had been requested to address the dispatch of Dementors from Azkaban to foreign soil, and to get to the heart of _that_ matter. If they were sent, then the British Ministry must, of course, be censured.”

“It is of a piece,” Oscar replies. “Surely, the ICW would censure Britain far less harshly if they sent Dementors after a mass murderer, and far more harshly if sent after an innocent man.”

Bertolino grunts. “Perhaps, perhaps. Or perhaps they merely were following orders and were not sent at all.”

“And perhaps, had the Ministry acted on the information provided to them in June of Sirius Black’s innocence, the Dementors would never have been given such orders,” Oscar counters. “The question is one of negligence versus malice.”

“The crimes for which Sirius Black stands accused occurred on British soil, and are rightly the province of Britain.” Sirius recognizes that voice; it’s obviously Dumbledore. “Let him return to England and face judgment.”

“What assurances has he been given that he would receive a trial _this_ time?” Oscar counters. “None have been offered. Instead, there have been threats against him, against his friends, and the safety of his godson. In fact, it’s our belief that the Dementors were sent after Mr. Black because he applied for joint citizenship for his godson, Harry Potter. It is also our contention that Mr. Potter, a minor child, was exposed to Dementors deliberately, causing him grievous harm.”

There are more murmurs, and then a chime rings out. Bertolino calls, “I recognize the French delegate.”

A light shines directly on the French delegate at those words, revealing an older witch whose dark hair belies the years that are clear from the wrinkles on her face. “It is true that Sirius Black sought joint citizenship for his godson. It is also true that we investigated the charges against him, and spoke with the goblins of Gringotts. As he received no trial, under French law, he was an innocent man, and the Potters’ will clearly named him godfather. The Black family has deep roots in France. We saw no reason to deny sanctuary under those circumstances. The British Ministry was not receptive to our inquiries, or another decision might have been reached. Directly after our decision to allow Mr. Black and his godson to remain in France, there were Dementors in Paris.”

A hush falls over the room at that.

“So, Britain says he is guilty, but without a trial to determine guilt or innocence, he is perhaps neither,” Bertolino says. “And France has agreed to his petition, making him a French citizen as well. Therefore, we have a man who is a resident of two countries, perhaps a perpetrator in one, perhaps a victim in the other. But if, as you say, Signore Rogers, the British Ministry had notice of the lack of a trial, and had reason to believe him innocent, then we have the government of one sovereign nation interfering with that of the other, and that cannot be borne.”

Bertolino falls silent and says, “Very well, Signore Rogers. Call your wife as his solicitor, and let us get to the bottom of the matter. For if the British Ministry sent Dementors, or allowed them to be sent, they must be censured quite heavily, and more so if their quarry was known to be innocent.”

Sirius understands that this is a rare circumstance where an individual’s guilt or innocence is being reviewed by the ICW, based upon the actions of the leaders of a country.

At some point, Sirius knows he’ll have to face the music insofar as kidnapping Harry goes, but if he’s innocent, he’s fairly certain that puts him in a legally gray area. One that he doubts the Ministry really wants to even try to sort out at this point.

Miriam makes her way to the chair and motions him into it.

Sirius winces as he sits down, feeling the strong enchantment. The ICW is known for having some of the strongest honesty hexes, and he can feel them.

Another wizard approaches with a potion vial. “I can certify that this is trial grade veritaserum, signore.”

“Do you object to the administration of the potion, Signora?” Bertolino asks.

Miriam shakes her head. “No objection whatsoever. My client has nothing to hide.”

Sirius takes a deep breath and swallows the potion down, and he can immediately feel the effects.

“Signora Rogers, you may begin,” Bertolino says.

“Please state your name for the record,” Miriam says.

“Sirius Orion Black,” he says.

Miriam nods. “And also for the record, would you please lie about the color of my robes?”

She’s wearing sober, dark gray robes, and Sirius tries to say that they’re purple. He gets as far as the “p” before he finds himself saying, “Gray.”

“I believe that will suffice, signore,” Miriam says.

Bertolino nods. “Indeed. The potion is working.”

Sirius really hopes that the magic of the Veil doesn’t interfere with the potion or the honesty hex on the chair, but he knows this is his best chance for clearing his name, since the Ministry isn’t being cooperative.

“Before you came to France, where were you residing?” Miriam asks.

“I was in Azkaban,” Sirius replies, keeping his voice even.

“What was the crime?” Miriam asks.

“I was accused of conspiring with Death Eaters to cause the deaths of James and Lily Potter, as well as the murder of a dozen Muggles and Peter Pettigrew,” Sirius replies.

Miriam nods. “Did you receive a trial?”

“I did not.”

“Do you know whether formal charges were ever brought?” Miriam asks.

Sirius inclines his head. “You told me that they were not.”

“You were therefore never convicted of any crime,” Miriam says.

“I was not.”

“I’m sure everyone would like to know how you escaped,” Miriam comments. “Would you explain?”

“I’m an unregistered animagus,” Sirius admits. He knows that the penalty is a hefty fine, which he can afford to pay. He would rather have kept that secret, since it could come in handy in the future. “A dog, to be precise. I was thin enough to slip between the bars, and I boarded the ship used to transport supplies.”

“You were in Azkaban for seven years, and you just escaped recently,” Miriam says. “Why?”

“It took me that long to come back to myself,” Sirius admits. “I knew that I had a responsibility to Harry, my godson, but James and Lily’s deaths devastated me.”

“Given your close relationship to the Potters, and your role as their son’s godfather, why would anyone suspect you of betraying them?”

“It was widely assumed that I was their Secret Keeper,” Sirius replies. “When I’d actually switched with Peter Pettigrew. I thought the Death Eaters would come after me, not him, and the Potters would be that much safer.”

He doesn’t even feel the honesty hex or veritaserum at this point, because everything he’s saying is the truth.

“Did anyone other than the Potters know of this plan?” Miriam asks.

Sirius doesn’t even pause to consider before he says, “James said he would tell Albus Dumbledore, but no one else.”

There are loud murmurs at that, probably because everyone knows that Sirius is speaking the truth.

“Did he?”

“I don’t know,” Sirius admits immediately. “I stayed away from the Potters after that, as was the plan.”

“And the night they died? Why were you at their house?” Miriam presses.

“I had gone to check on Peter, who was staying at an Order safe house, and he was gone,” Sirius recounts. He can still remember his growing terror, thinking first that Peter had somehow been taken, and then realizing that Peter had left of his own accord. “At first, I thought foul play, but there were no signs of a struggle, nothing to suggest that the Death Eaters had been there. In a war, you learn to trust your instincts, and mine were telling me that something had gone horribly awry. Either Peter had been captured and might give up the secret under duress, or he had betrayed them.”

“What did you believe?”

“I believed he betrayed them,” Sirius replies bluntly. “What else was I to think?”

“And then?”

“And then I went to Godric’s Hollow, and since I could see the cottage as plain as day, I knew Peter had betrayed them.” Sirius feels his throat grow thick with the remembered horror. “I grabbed Harry and got him out of the house, and that’s when Hagrid appeared. I knew Harry would be safe with him, so I left Harry with Hagrid, and chased after Pettigrew.”

“What were you going to do with him when you found him?” Miriam asks.

Sirius might have prevaricated under other circumstances, but instead he says, “I might have killed him. Mostly I wanted him to pay for what he’d done to our friends.”

“And when you escaped from Azkaban, why did you immediately go after Pettigrew?” Miriam asks.

“Because I knew that delivering him to the Ministry would, at the very least, prove that I hadn’t killed him, and might bring his own complicity into question,” Sirius replies.

“How did you know where to find him?”

The veritaserum forces the words out of Sirius’ mouth, although he hardly recognizes the version of events. “I wasn’t sure. But I knew his animagus form was a rat, and he joked about living life as a pet. I started with those I knew were Order members when the Potters were killed. From there, I tracked him by scent.”

None of that is the truth, per se, but it sounds plausible, and just as good as anything Sirius might have thought up on his own. It also has the benefit of not getting in the way of either the honesty hex or the veritaserum.

“And why not stick around to prove your innocence?” Miriam asks.

She doesn’t ask what he did instead, but he supposes she probably doesn’t want to draw attention to another crime for which he could be imprisoned.

“My first priority was Harry,” Sirius says simply. “I had looked in on him in my animagus form, and he was being poorly treated by his Muggle relatives. I never should have left him to go after Pettigrew in the first place, and I wasn’t going to make the same mistake for a second time.”

“What made you believe that Harry was being abused?” Miriam asks.

“He was dressed in rags, his aunt turfed him out of the house for the entire day because she didn’t want company to see him, and she barely fed him on either day that I saw him,” Sirius says quietly. “And when I told him that I was his godfather, he was very excited about leaving with me. He didn’t even raise an objection.”

“Being unhappy doesn’t mean being abused,” someone from the peanut gallery says, although Sirius recognizes the voice as Dumbledore’s.

“I’m Harry’s godfather,” Sirius says simply. “It’s my duty to see him protected and well cared for. He is my highest priority.”

Miriam smiles. “So, you kidnapped him.”

Oh, they were facing this head-on, then. “No, I took custody of my godson, which I had never been deprived of, actually,” Sirius replies. “The Potters granted me custody in case anything should happen to them, and charges against me were never formally brought, let alone proven. Harry is mine until someone says otherwise.”

He has the sealed guardianship from the goblins at Gringotts to prove it, too.

“And after?” Miriam asks.

“The Ministry made no public announcement about Pettigrew, or my escape, and I knew I couldn’t trust them to give me any trial, let alone a fair one,” Sirius replies. “The more time went by, the more convinced I was that the Ministry would try to sweep everything under the rug. That’s when I contacted legal counsel.”

There’s actually a titter of amusement from the audience at that point. Sirius can feel the sympathy of the crowd shifting.

“And what have you been doing since your escape?” Miriam asks.

Sirius shrugs. “Making a home for Harry, tutoring him in French, making sure he understands his place as a wizard in our world. I’ve been preparing him, you might say.”

“For what?” Miriam asks.

“To be a wizard his parents would be proud of,” Sirius replies. “James and Lily Potter were two of the best wizards of their generation, and their loss was a tremendous tragedy, and not just because they were my friends. They very well might have changed our world for the better, and it’s my job to ensure that Harry can do the same, no matter where his interests might lie.”

“No further questions,” Miriam says. “But I reserve the right of rebuttal.”

Sirius knows that as the Supreme Mugwump, Bertolino has the right to appoint a special prosecutor, or to handle questions himself. He’s not surprised when Bertolino opts for the latter arrangement.

Bertolino is silent for a long moment, and then he says, “I believe I would like to see your animagus form for myself, Signore Black.”

Sirius has no reason _not_ to show him, and so he stands—since he hadn’t been secured to the chair, which means they don’t view him as that much of a threat—and transforms.

There are gasps from the audience, probably because his form looks very much like a Grim. Sirius just sits and waits.

“I see,” Bertolino murmurs. “Yes, I do see. Thank you, Signore Black.”

Sirius takes that as his cue to transform back, and he retakes his seat.

“Why did you become an animagus?” he asks finally.

“A friend from school is a werewolf, and we wanted to be there for him during his transformations,” Sirius replies, and he couldn’t have lied even if he tried, not with the veritaserum and the chair underneath him.

“And this is also why Signore Pettigrew found his animagus form?” Bertolino queries. “To keep your friend company.”

Sirius nods. “That is why.”

“And this friend is why you have provided the Wolfsbane potion as a gesture of goodwill?”

“Yes.”

Bertolino clasps his hands together in front of him. “Then, I would suggest that Signore Black is a most constant friend. No evidence has been presented otherwise, and our Legilimens has indicated no hint of deceit.”

Sirius had no idea that there was a Legilimens, but he probably should have expected it.

“France has granted him sanctuary, and Britain has forfeited her claim on him,” Bertolino announces. “As Britain has forfeited its claim on Harry Potter, at least until he reaches such an age so as to decide for himself where he should like to live. Are we agreed?”

The method of voting among ICW delegates is by lit wand, and Sirius can see quite a few points of light among the darkened rows in the amphitheater. The vote is not unanimous, but it’s not close.

“Having forfeited its rights, Britain must now answer for the decision to send Dementors into another sovereign nation,” Bertolino continues. “Signore Black, you are fee to depart.”

Sirius would rather like to know what the outcome of that vote is going to be, but he knows better than to stick around after being dismissed. With a short bow to the Supreme Mugwump, and to the chamber, he leaves, Miriam in his wake.

“That couldn’t have gone better,” she says once they’re out of the chamber.

Stefano and Oscar have also followed them out, and Stefano nods. “By my count, at least three-quarters of the delegates voted for your innocence, Sirius.”

“And I doubt they’ll make the same mistake of sending Dementors after you again,” Oscar adds, sounding rather satisfied. “What do you think, darling?”

Miriam nods, although she appears somewhat troubled. “I agree. You’ll likely be safe on French soil, but the finding of the ICW isn’t binding on the British Ministry. They could very well toss you into Azkaban as soon as you set foot on British soil.”

“But you could get him out,” Oliver says.

Miriam sighs. “I don’t know. I would like to say yes, but I would have said that I should have been able to get him a trial by now. Granted, the results of this proceeding will be broadcast far and wide, and that might shame them into at least providing him with a trial, but there’s also the matter of him kidnapping Harry.”

“I thought you said it wasn’t kidnapping in the technical sense,” Sirius protests. “And he wanted to go.”

“Dumbledore never registered the Muggles’ guardianship with the Ministry,” Miriam replies. She glances around. “I think we should take this conversation elsewhere.”

Stefano nods. “I know just where to go.”

He takes them to a small cafe in a nearby town, away from the large villa that had hosted the ICW gathering. Sirius glances around and realizes that he recognizes the place as somewhere Stefano had taken him before, and that they’re in a town just south of Siena.

The place sells some of the best pizza Sirius has ever had, and he’s fairly certain they’ve been sitting on these recipes for generations. He makes a mental note to bring Harry here at some point; he would love it.

They order a couple of pizzas and sit around a small table with a carafe of wine. Sirius is still feeling the edge of the effect of the veritaserum and the honesty hex, and he’s exhausted, but also hungry.

He revives a bit under the effects of the late fall sunlight, the wine, and the good company. The temperature is a little warmer than it usually is at this time of year, making it quite comfortable to sit outside, although they’ve all removed their robes and shrunk them in order not to stick out around the Muggles.

Oliver, Miriam, and Stefano are used to being around Muggles, and know how to navigate that world. He’s not sure why Oliver and Miriam are so comfortable with Muggles, but Stefano’s story isn’t that different than Sirius’ own.

Once they have their food, Stefano casts a “notice-me-not” charm to discourage eavesdroppers. “What were you saying, Miriam?”

“I started checking, and Dumbledore didn’t register the guardianship with the Ministry,” Miriam continues. “Based on what you told me, that’s understandable if he wanted to keep Harry’s whereabouts a secret. But it also means that there was no official guardianship. And Dumbledore never actually registered anything with the Muggle authorities either.”

“What about the Dursleys?” Sirius asks, although he has his suspicions. If the arrangements to care for Harry had been completely under the table, they would not need to report Harry missing, and to do so might raise more questions than answers.

Miriam shrugs. “They told everyone that Harry’s parents had been killed, and they took him in, but it never went through any agency. No one ever questioned it. The sad truth is that children fall through the cracks all the time, and Harry is relatively lucky. It could have turned out much worse for him.”

Sirius knows that’s true enough. “So, I didn’t kidnap him.”

Miriam grimaces. “That depends on who you ask. The British Ministry would probably argue that you did, and I don’t know what it would take to get you out of Azkaban if they pressed the issue. Eventually, I would be able to force a trial, but that would take time, and if the Ministry gets their hands on Harry…”

Sirius can’t think of anybody he’d trust with Harry at this point other than Remus, or Louise, maybe Martin. The Ministry wouldn’t agree to place Harry with anyone they hadn’t chosen themselves, and Sirius wouldn’t trust their choices.

“So, what do you think?” Sirius asks.

“Technically, the Potters named you as Harry’s guardian, and you weren’t formally charged with anything let alone convicted,” Miriam says. “Which means you were never stripped of your rights as Harry’s godfather. If anyone kidnapped Harry, it was technically Dumbledore, because he didn’t go through the legal procedures to ensure that the Dursleys had legal guardianship.”

“But the Ministry won’t see it that way,” Oliver comments. “I think we’ve all seen how recalcitrant the Ministry is willing to be when it comes to you, Sirius.”

Sirius takes a sip of wine. “What if we got Dumbledore on our side?”

“Is that even a possibility?” Stefano asks, surprised. “And how on earth would you go about that?”

Sirius shrugs. “I’m not sure yet, but I’m willing to bet that hearing Britain had given up any right to interfere in Harry’s life until he comes of age might have shocked him a bit. If he wants Harry to attend Hogwarts, he’s going to have to cooperate, and he knows it.”

Remus will have an idea, though. Sirius is certain of that.

Or maybe he’ll just tell Sirius that’s a terrible plan and they should live in France.

Sirius is good with that, too.

~~~~~

He gets a portkey back home, and he arrives just as the sun is beginning to set. He’s still full from the pizza and wine, and maybe just a touch tipsy.

As soon as Sirius enters the house, Harry flings himself at Sirius, and Sirius picks him up and holds him tightly. “I’m fine, pup.”

“We listened on the radio,” Harry says breathlessly. “Uncle Moony said it went really well, but I couldn’t tell.”

“I think it went well,” Sirius agrees. “They agreed that I’m innocent, and that I get to keep you, and that’s the most important thing.”

Harry buries his face in Sirius’ neck. “I was worried.”

“I know, Pronglet,” Sirius replies. “I’m sorry for that, but I’m okay, and there was no harm done.”

“Are you hungry?” Remus asks, putting a soup terrine on the table. “I just made stew.”

“Not really, but I’ll sit with you guys while you eat,” Sirius replies.

Remus leans in and gives Sirius a quick kiss. “It’s good to have you home.”

Harry is clingy that night, but Sirius doesn’t mind. As soon as Harry has finished eating, he wants to cuddle with Sirius, and he’s reluctant to go to bed when it starts getting late.

Sirius hates to put his foot down, but he needs to talk to Remus and discuss strategy. In the end, they compromise. Sirius lays down with Harry as Padfoot while Remus reads out loud to the both of them until Harry falls asleep.

As soon as he’s out, Sirius crawls out of Harry’s bed and heads downstairs, transforming at the bottom of the stairs. Remus joins him and Sirius puts the kettle on for tea.

“I could read between the lines, Padfoot,” Remus says quietly. “Just because the ICW supports your cause doesn’t mean you’ll be able to go back to England.”

“They’ll likely arrest me on the spot for kidnapping Harry,” Sirius replies wryly. “Unless we can get them to admit that I should have had custody of Harry all along, and they were wrong to toss me in Azkaban in the first place.”

“And how are we to do that?” Remus asks. “Or do you even want to?”

“I’d like the option,” Sirius replies. “And I’m sure Dumbledore would prefer Harry to attend Hogwarts.”

Remus raises his eyebrows. “And do you want that?”

“Not necessarily, but I’d like to keep his options open if we could be certain that Dumbledore would keep him safe,” Sirius replies, although he’s not sure he’ll ever believe that Dumbledore will safeguard Harry.

“Do you think that we can get him on our side?” Remus asks.

“I was rather hoping that you could answer that question,” Sirius admits. “I just don’t know right now.”

Remus sighs. “It certainly wouldn’t hurt to be able to go home. You do realize that Harry’s beginning to develop a bit of a French accent when he speaks English.”

Sirius laughs. “I had noticed, and it will likely surprise a number of people if Harry does go back to England.”

“But you can’t effect the change you’d like to effect if you’re exiled here,” Remus points out. “And you’re entitled to take your seat on the Wizengamot, too.”

Sirius doesn’t really care about that, at least not in this time. He just wants to focus on Harry. On the other hand, most heirs begin their training in household matters prior to beginning school, and Harry will be heir to both the Potter fortune and the House of Black. He’ll have to mix with both Muggle-born and those from the old families.

And he owes it to both Harry and Remus to make a better world.

“How do we get Dumbledore on our side?” Sirius asks.

“First, we have to determine how to replicate the wards that the Dursleys have,” Remus replies. “Even above the wards we already have. If we can do that, we might have a chance.”

Sirius knows that’s probably true, based on what Dumbledore said. He thought that the physical safety returning to the Dursleys offered was more important than Harry’s emotional safety. But they’re either going to have to get Dumbledore to explain what he’d done with the wards, or they’re going to have to find another way to replicate them.

“I suppose I could sneak in to the country,” Sirius says dubiously.

“Don’t even think about it,” Remus warns him. “Your animagus form is well known at this point, and I wouldn’t put it past the Ministry to be watching for you.”

“At the Dursleys’?”

“Better safe than sorry,” Remus says darkly. “No, we need someone who won’t be recognized.”

“And who would that be?” Sirius asks, honestly curious.

Remus smiles. “Has Louise ever told you what she did before she decided to have children?”

Sirius frowns. “No, not that I know of. Why?”

“She was a ward builder and a curse breaker,” Remus replies. “We talked about it one time while you were out flying with the children.”

Sirius blinks. “No one knows who she is. Do you think she’d help?”

“I think we should ask,” Remus replies. “And if she can’t, maybe there’s someone else who can.”

Sirius realizes that they have friends, allies even. They can ask for help, and he doesn’t have to pull a stupid stunt in order to make sure Harry is taken care of. They can be smart about this.

“How long do you think we can keep Harry out of school?” Sirius asks.

Remus considers the question. “Another couple of days, probably.”

“Let’s talk to Louise tomorrow, and then we’ll figure it out,” Sirius replies. “At least we’re safe here, unless the British Ministry sends Dementors again.”

“Oh, they were heavily fined,” Remus says, with immense satisfaction. “One thousand galleons for every French citizen affected. Not including us, but that was still in the neighborhood of thirty people. I doubt they’ll be sending Dementors.”

“But that doesn’t mean they won’t try something else.”

“Hence the need to get Dumbledore on our side,” Remus replies. “And for you to take your place in British society. We have to figure it out in order to move forward.”

Sirius nods. “Then I guess we’ll talk to Louise tomorrow. If we can completely replicate the wards, I don’t see how Dumbledore could object to us having Harry, unless he’s got some ulterior motive.”

“I think we can bank on that,” Remus replies. “But if that’s the case, we’ll deal with it then.”

~~~~~

The next day dawns cool and gray, with a steady drizzle that will keep Harry indoors when they visit Louise. Harry doesn’t seem to mind, bringing one of his schoolbooks to keep him occupied, and they apparate to her front porch.

Sirius had fire-called her the night before, so she’s expecting them, and she provides hot chocolate for Harry and tea for the adults. They settle in the kitchen, and Harry curls up on the couch in front of the fireplace in the living room. Sirius takes a chair where he can keep an eye on Harry.

Harry isn’t in danger here, but after the scare with the Dementors, Sirius likes the comfort of being able to see him.

“So, what can I help you with?” Louise asks. “You were a bit cryptic last night.”

“You heard what happened?” Sirius inquires.

Louise snorts. “I might live out in the country, but I do keep up with the news. The Dementor attack in Paris, your appearance before the ICW—it’s all big news. You’ve been exonerated by the ICW, at least.”

“But that doesn’t help me return to England, and I know that if we don’t get Albus Dumbledore on our side, that’s never going to happen,” Sirius says quietly.

Louise nods. “Very well. Does he know that you’re innocent?”

“I don’t think he cares,” Sirius admits. “At least, he doesn’t care about that more than his belief that Harry needs to be with his Muggle relatives because he’s safer with them.”

“Why would he be safer?” Louise demands, although she keeps her voice low. “From what I’ve heard, it’s quite the opposite.”

“Physically safer,” Sirius replies. “Because of the wards.”

Louise hums thoughtfully. “So, you wish me to go see the wards for myself, to see what makes them stronger, so that you might recreate them and perhaps pacify this Albus Dumbledore.”

“That’s about the sum of it,” Sirius agrees.

Louise nods. “I can do that, although it has been months since Harry was at their house, and whatever wards were there might not be as active. Still, there should be some traces that I can follow.”

Remus nods. “Whatever you can do. If we can set Dumbledore’s mind at ease, he might agree to work with us, rather than against us.”

“He wants Harry to go to Hogwarts, doesn’t he?” Louise asks with some asperity. “He does know there are other schools.”

Sirius shrugs. “He might have thought he could force our hand, or that Hogwarts would be safer for Harry. I don’t know. All I know is that he’s convinced Harry will be better protected by the Dursleys, and I want to know why. I think it has something to do with the wards.”

Louise nods. “I’ll get to the bottom of it, if I can.”

“You won’t have any trouble with navigating the Muggle world?” Sirius asks, because plenty of wizards and witches do.

Louise barks a laugh. “I’ve lived with one foot in each world my entire life, my boys. I’ll be just fine.” She rubs her hands together. “Now, who’s hungry? Because I have a pot of soup on.”

They make plans to meet up in three days in Paris at their apartment, because Sirius doesn’t want to keep Harry out of school any longer than absolutely necessary.

Harry seems relieved to be able to go back to school when they head back to Paris later that day. Sirius doesn’t want to let Harry out of his sight, but he knows that Harry needs to get back into a routine.

Still, they have a serious talk that night.

“No going anywhere outside of the school grounds without me or Remus with you,” Sirius says. “And you must have your emergency portkey with you at all times, whether we’re at home or outside.”

Harry nods, his green eyes wide. “I understand.”

“It would absolutely gut us to have anything happen to you,” Remus says gently. “You did very well to use your portkey when we told you to with the Dementors. We need you to do the same thing and protect yourself.”

Harry gulps and asks, “But what about you?”

“You trust us to look after each other,” Sirius replies. “Because we will, just like it’s our job to look after you.”

Harry reluctantly agrees, and Sirius reluctantly walks him to school, watching him head through the gates with a pang.

“He’ll be fine, Padfoot,” Remus says. “The school is safe, and they’re not going to send Dementors again.”

Sirius frowns. “What if they send someone else? Or something else?”

“Then we’ll deal with it,” Remus replies. “Right now, we have some research to do.”

“Research into what?” Sirius asks.

“Once we figure out how to build the wards, it will be better if they aren’t tied to Harry’s blood,” Remus points out. “So, maybe we could tie them to ward stones?”

Sirius nods. “You’re correct, as usual. I guess we have our work cut out for us.”

He’s a bit distracted, and finds it difficult to focus, wondering about how Louise is doing, and whether she’ll have the answers they need. So much is riding on getting Dumbledore’s cooperation, and Sirius wishes that there was a way to keep Harry safe and yet show Dumbledore the difference between Harry’s life with the Dursleys and his life now.

And then Sirius smacks himself in the forehead. “I’m an idiot.”

“I won’t disagree until I know why you think you’re an idiot,” Remus replies, his voice warm and amused. “But what’s up?”

“We need a Pensieve, and a certified copy of Harry’s memories, both with the Dursleys, and with us, well, me,” Sirius replies. “If we present that to Dumbledore along with our work on the wards, he’ll have to admit that Harry is better off with us.”

Remus’ expression goes pensive and strange, and he says quietly, “What makes you think that Dumbledore didn’t know about Harry’s experiences?”

Sirius frowns. “I’m sure he did, but in the proper context…” He trails off. “What are you thinking, Moony?”

“Why did Dumbledore allow me to attend school?” Remus asks.

Sirius frowns. “Because you deserved to attend Hogwarts. It wasn’t your fault Grayback bit you, and I’m sure that Dumbledore—”

“Believed that?” Remus asks, and there’s something dark in his voice. “Yes, probably.”

“What else?” Sirius demands.

“And maybe he could foresee the need to send someone to the werewolf packs even then, and knew that I’d be in his debt.”

Sirius can’t deny the possibility, not when it’s crossed his own mind. He can’t deny the possibility that there’s some part of Dumbledore that had wanted to keep Harry dependent on him, and isolated from other adults who might protect him, or give him ideas.

“Then Harry won’t go to Hogwarts,” Sirius says firmly. “James and Lily wouldn’t want me to send him into certain danger, and Beauxbatons is a good school. And even if Dumbledore backs off and supports us, you can rest assured that Harry will have had a very thorough education on looking for ulterior motives in others, and trusting us if anything should go wrong.”

How many of Harry’s problems at Hogwarts might have been solved by a parental figure intervening? Many, if not all, Sirius thinks. And if he succeeds in taking his place on the Wizengamot, just about all. He’ll be as powerful as Lucius Malfoy, then. He’ll be a force to be reckoned with.

“You didn’t disagree with my assessment of Dumbledore’s motives,” Remus observes.

“Because I don’t,” Sirius says shortly. “Just like I think he might have ulterior motives for allowing me to stay in Azkaban, or in wanting me back here, and Harry with the Dursleys. Moony, I’m used to ulterior motives. My parents had ten of them for every action. Whether he saw an opportunity and used it, or whatever his motives were, it didn’t serve me well. He’s indicated that he won’t.”

“And you’d send Harry to him,” Remus says flatly.

“With a communication mirror and an emergency portkey, and assurances from his head of house that he’ll be kept safe,” Sirius says. “Remus, I…”

He can’t speak of his knowledge, or how he knows it, but he says, “There are as many reasons for Harry to attend Hogwarts as there are for him not to go. Trust me when I say that there are reasons he should go, and not just because we did. We’ll just have to be vigilant.”

Remus gives him a sharp look. “Does this have anything to do with how you knew where to find Peter?”

“It might,” Sirius admits. “I wish I could explain.”

“I’ll accept that you can’t,” Remus replies. “You’re different, you know?”

“Different how?” Sirius asks.

“People who come out of Azkaban are usually just a little more insane,” Remus says dryly. “And while you looked it when you captured Pettigrew, you acted sane. You formed a plan—an effective one, that was incredibly successful. You kept Harry fed and made a home for him. The man I knew would have floundered way more than you have.”

“Oh, ye of little faith,” Sirius says lightly.

Remus gives him a very unimpressed look. “You know exactly what I mean.”

“I do,” Sirius admits. “And I have the nightmares to prove it.”

“But otherwise, you’re doing far better than you should be, Padfoot.”

Sirius can’t disagree. He can see it in the mirror. Not that he looked in the mirror much immediately after his original escape, but he hadn’t been in his right mind.

“I have Harry to think about,” Sirius replies, “and when that fact hit home, sanity returned.”

Remus nods. “Fair enough. I still think there’s more to the story.”

“And you’d be right, but I really have told you everything I can, Moony,” Sirius says lightly. “I’m just grateful, for Harry’s sake, that I’m saner than I should be.”

“I’m grateful for that as well,” Remus replies drily. “But maybe that’s fueling Dumbledore’s decision-making as well.”

Sirius nods. “Maybe. It’s certainly a possibility.”

Not that it really matters. In the end, Sirius will do what’s best for Harry, and he’ll make sure Harry is taken care of. That’s all that matters.

Thankfully, Remus feels the same way.

“Here,” Sirius says. “I think we can put similar protections in a ward stone.”

He passes the book over to Remus, and after a few minutes of reading, Remus nods. “I agree. I think it’s going to work, depending on what Louise says.”

Sirius glances around. “What else?”

Remus shrugs. “To be honest, that’s all I have for today. Until we hear what Louise has to say, I don’t think we can do much more.”

Sirius gives him a hopeful look. “I can think of a few things while Harry’s out of the apartment.”

Remus’ lips quirk up in a smile. “Oh, really?”

“Hope springs eternal,” Sirius says, and Remus reaches out to pull him in for a heated kiss that has Sirius relaxing. The last vestiges of his nerves from the ICW give way, because he has this. He has Remus, and he has Harry, and possession is nine-tenths of the law.

And when they go to pick up Harry at school that afternoon, their hands brush on occasion, and Sirius suspects hat his grin is as sappy as the one Remus is wearing.

He watches as Harry emerges from the main building, surrounded by other boys, including Lionel. Harry is chattering away, and there’s clear laughter and friendly jostling. When Harry spots them, he waves enthusiastically, then bids a cheerful goodbye to his friends.

He doesn’t hug them, holding back a little bit in a way that tells Sirius he doesn’t want to look uncool in front of his friends, and while he feels a pang, he’s also glad in a way. It’s normal for a boy his age to not want to appear like he needs his parents too much.

Or at least his parental figures.

And then Lionel calls, “Harry! Harry, over here!”

There’s a woman who looks to be about Sirius’ age in green healers’ robes with her arm around Lionel’s shoulders protectively. She has a cautious smile on her face.

Harry glances up at Sirius. “I think that’s Lionel’s mom.”

“I think you’re probably right,” Sirius replies, and they approach her and Lionel.

“You must be Monsieur Black,” she says, holding out a hand. “I’m Diana Deschamps. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Both Therese and Lionel have spoken of you often, as has my mother.”

“Louise is a good friend, and a godsend this summer with Harry,” Sirius replies. “This is my friend, Remus Lupin.”

She shakes Remus’ hand as well. “It is a pleasure to meet you both.”

Sirius catches a hint of wariness about her, but he has no idea why. It could be because she caught his hearing before the ICW and has doubts, or because the implication had been that the Dementors had targeted them. He doesn’t think he would want Harry around anybody who might place him in danger, however unwittingly or unwillingly.

“Well, I’m sure you have places you need to be,” Sirius says.

Diana nods, but says, “I believe my mother will be in town in a few days. You should come over for dinner. We would like to get to know you and Harry better.”

“Please let us know the day and time,” Sirius replies. “Lionel has been a good friend to Harry, and we would appreciate the opportunity as well.”

Her smile loses a bit of its uncertainty. “Good. I will send a message with Lionel.”

There are handshakes all around, and then they head home.

“What are we doing for dinner?” Harry asks.

“I don’t know,” Sirius replies. “I suppose I hadn’t planned that far ahead. We don’t have much in the flat. What do you want to do?”

Harry hesitates. “Can we go back to that bistro with the sandwiches?”

Sirius knows he’s referring to the place near their flat that serves the crouque monsieur that’s absolutely delightful. Harry is a particular fan.

“I think we can arrange that,” Sirius replies. “Unless Remus had his heart set on cooking something.”

Remus snorts. “I think it was your turn to cook.”

“Then we should definitely eat out,” Sirius replies with a laugh.

It’s almost back to normal, because they have a nice dinner, and Harry seems happy to be back at school and with his friends. He chatters non-stop through their meal, and when they head back to the flat, he announces that he has homework and settles down at the kitchen table to do it.

Tibere sits in the chair next to Harry, watching him work, and Nigel is on Harry’s lap. Sirius and Remus read, and it’s as pleasant an evening as they could have hoped to have.

That peace is shattered later, though. Harry goes to bed, as do they, and Sirius drops off easily, pleased with their day. He’s awoken a few hours later by a loud scream, and he’s out of bed and half up the stairs to the loft before he even wakes up. As soon as he hits the loft, he transforms and is in Harry’s bed a moment later.

Harry grabs him, sobbing into Sirius’ fur, Tibere snugged up against Harry’s back, Nigel on Harry’s pillow next to his head.

Sirius whines softly and nudges Harry’s chin with his nose. “You were gone, and I couldn’t find you,” Harry sobs.

“We’re not going anywhere,” Remus soothes as he climbs the stairs. He’d taken the time to pull on a shirt, and he runs a gentle hand through Harry’s sweaty hair. “We’re both here, and nothing is going to happen to you, Harry. You’re safe.”

“I couldn’t find you,” Harry sobs, still clearly in the grip of his nightmare.

Sirius whuffs. He hadn’t wanted to give Harry any additional nightmares, but it appears he has.

Harry clutches at him, and then his sobs gradually taper off, and he snuffles. Remus gets up, and a few minutes later, a tissue appears in front of Harry’s face. “Blow.”

Harry lets go of Sirius long enough to blow his nose and wipe his eyes, and then he says miserably, “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for,” Remus replies. “You’ve been through a traumatic event, and Merlin knows Sirius still has nightmares. So do I, on occasion. Would it help if I read to you?”

Harry gulps and nods. “Yes,” he agrees in a thin voice.

“Okay, I’ll grab a book,” Remus replies.

He grabs _Quidditch Through the Ages_ and starts at the most boring part, at least as far as Sirius can tell—about how Quidditch first became a sport.

Harry’s eyes start drooping after only a few minutes, and then he nods off.

Remus keeps reading until he’s certain that Harry is deeply asleep, and then he closes the book softly and scratches behind Sirius’ ears. “Sleep well, both of you,” he says.

Sirius sometimes sleeps better as Padfoot, because things seem simpler, and the nightmares don’t follow him. Harry seems to sleep better with him close as well, clinging to Sirius, his fingers tangling in Sirius’ fur.

In the morning, Harry wakes first, and he makes a discontented sound. “I’m sorry,” he mutters.

In response, Sirius licks a stripe from Harry’s collarbone to his cheek.

That makes Harry giggle as he hoped, and Sirius hops out of bed and goes down the stairs, waiting until he’s in his bedroom before he transforms again, grateful that he’d at least had pajama pants on.

Although as Padfoot, it doesn’t make much difference.

Remus is already up and in the kitchen, and Sirius gets dressed quickly. Remus has coffee waiting for him, and breakfast for Harry, and Sirius gives him a grateful kiss. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Remus replies.

The next couple of days are fairly quiet, something for which Sirius is grateful. They walk Harry to school, and then run errands. They need potion supplies for the next batch of Wolfsbane, and then they have to start brewing it to ensure that it’s ready in time.

Harry is curious about potions making, and while Sirius isn’t sure whether he’ll develop any kind of affinity for it before school, it might help insulate him against Snape’s terrible teaching if he does.

“It’s kind of like following a recipe, isn’t it?” Harry asks, kneeling up on one of the kitchen chairs as he watches Sirius measure ingredients. “Like cooking.”

“It’s a little bit like that,” Sirius agrees. “And a lot like cooking, there are people who have a special knack for it. But anybody can brew competently with some practice.”

Harry frowns. “What do you mean?”

Remus clears his throat. “Do you know how some people are really good cooks, even professionals?”

Harry nods. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Why do you think they’re so good at it?” Remus asks.

Remus really should be a teacher, Sirius thinks. He’s so good with Harry, so good at asking gentle questions that help Harry draw his own conclusions and think things through.

“They go to school for it?” Harry guesses.

Remus nods. “Any other reasons?”

“Because they practice,” Harry says slowly, “and because they really like it, and because they have a special ability, like I’m really good at Quidditch and I really like it.”

Remus smiles. “Precisely, Harry. Anyone can work hard and become good at brewing potions. Most witches and wizards make basic household potions on a regular basis. But not many will become potions masters, and only a few of those people will be incredibly good at it. And there are some potions that you only want the best to make.”

“Like what?” Harry asks.

“Certain medicines that could be toxic if brewed incorrectly, or other things that will go horribly wrong if done poorly,” Remus replies.

Harry frowns. “Could I learn how to make potions?”

“Sure,” Sirius replies. “Do you want to learn? This is one of those areas where you can start learning the basics before you get your wand.”

Harry nods eagerly. “I want to learn how to make Uncle Moony’s medicine, just in case.”

“It’s a tricky potion,” Sirius cautions.

Harry shrugs. “Then I’ll have to get really good at them.”

Sirius gives Remus a look, and Remus grimaces. Sirius assumes that Remus knows Snape teaches potions at Hogwarts, even if he doesn’t yet have first-hand experience with his teaching techniques.

If Harry shows any kind of promise with potions, Sirius would hate to send him to learn from Snape.

Sirius nods. “Okay, watch the way I prepare the ingredients. The method of preparation is important.”

Lily had taught him that. She’d understood the theory better than most.

Later that night, after they’d finished the first steps of the potion and set it aside to bubble for the required period of time, Sirius promises that they can go shopping soon for a basic potions book so that Harry can start reading about it on his own.

“It might be a passing phase,” Remus murmurs after they’ve gone to bed.

“It might be,” Sirius agrees. “Harry has a lot of interests right now, and everything is new to him. He might find that it’s not something he’s particularly interested in.”

Remus glances at him. “But?”

“But he’s doing it to help his Uncle Moony, and he’s loyal as the day is long,” Sirius says slowly. “He’ll see the practical uses for potions, and that will appeal to him as well.”

“Surely that’s not a bad thing,” Remus protests.

Sirius snorts. “Can you see that interest surviving Snape’s teaching?”

“He might be a good teacher,” Remus protests half-heartedly.

“A good teacher to James’ son?” Sirius asks, although he already knows the answer even if Remus doesn’t.

Remus sighs. “Probably not. Maybe Dumbledore would protect him if we made our concerns clear, and it might be a moot point anyway.”

Sirius hadn’t realized how many choices he would have after he picked his door. Of course, he would have to decide the best place for Harry to go to school, but this is the most agonizing choice yet.

Remus is right; Harry might not be able to go to Hogwarts at all, but if Harry will be better off somewhere else—anywhere else—nostalgia cannot be an influence on his decision.

“Don’t think about it tonight,” Remus says. “We have no idea what’s going to happen, and we have years yet.”

Sirius knows he’s right, and he turns his face into Remus’ shoulder and tries to go to sleep, even though his thoughts are whirling around his head. But Remus starts to run his hand through Sirius’ hair, and the soothing gesture sends him to sleep.

~~~~~

The next day, when they go to pick Harry up from school, Louise is there, apparently waiting for Lionel—or them. She smiles brightly when she spots them shortly before the students are due to be released from classes.

“How did things go?” Sirius asks.

“Oh, fine, just fine,” Louise assures them. “Diana has asked me to invite the both of you and Harry to dinner tomorrow, but I thought we might want to keep this conversation private. Perhaps I can meet you tomorrow at your flat?”

“Of course,” Sirius replies. “Do you need directions?”

“I’ll send a Patronus tomorrow when I’m alone,” Louise replies. “I assume that you don’t want many people to know where you live.”

“I would prefer to keep our location as quiet as possible,” Sirius agrees. “Not that I have any issues with your family knowing, but—“

“You don’t need to explain,” Louise says quickly as the kids begin to leave the school. “I understand. I’ll send a Patronus.”

When Lionel and Harry exit, again in a crowd of friends, Lionel lets out a happy squeal. “Grand-mere!”

He rushes over to give her a hug, Harry trailing behind, although his face has also brightened at the sight of Louise.

“Come here, come here,” Louise says, motioning to Harry, and she pulls him into the hug as well. “Look at you both. I think you’ve grown! I just saw you.”

“How long are you staying?” Lionel asks.

“I don’t know,” Louise replies. “Perhaps a few days, perhaps through the weekend. Harry and his family are coming over for dinner tomorrow night, though.”

Lionel does a little dance. “You’ll get to meet mama and papa,” he says to Harry. “Don’t worry, they already like you. Grand-mere has said you’re smart and responsible.”

Harry blushes. “Thank you.”

“Nothing but the truth,” Louise replies. “Now, Lionel, we have time to have hot chocolate before we go home, but maybe Harry and the others would like to join us?”

Harry glances up at Sirius, who nods indulgently. “That sounds like an excellent plan.”

Louise interacts with Harry and Lionel on their level, drawing them out, and just listening to them, Sirius learns more about what Harry’s doing at school than he had before. He learns about the petty rivalries and small jealousies, the politics of school when you’re eight and nine.

There is a girl that Lionel likes, although Harry grimaces when that comes out, something Sirius finds reassuring. There is another girl who is also originally from England, and she and Harry have become friends, which Lionel teases him about.

“She’s a Squib, so she couldn’t do the language transfer spell,” Harry explains awkwardly. “Sometimes we speak English because she likes it better, and she says I have a French accent.”

“You’re starting to get one, a bit,” Sirius admits. “But there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“It’s good to practice English,” Louise says. “Maybe you should start speaking English at home. You’re getting enough practice with French at school, and you don’t want to lose your mother tongue.”

“What’s the girl’s name?” Remus asks.

Harry shrugs. “Elaine. Her dad took a position in France, I think because of the school. Her older brother is at Hogwarts.”

“Oh?” Sirius says with feigned indifference.

Harry shrugs. “I don’t think she likes it very much. She says he makes fun of her for being a Squib all the time.”

“Some witches and wizards have very small minds,” Louise says. “Just like everybody else.”

Harry frowns. “But couldn’t anybody be a Squib? I mean, it’s not like you can help it.”

Louise smiles approvingly. “Not everybody feels that way, but yes, Harry. No one knows what causes it, and it’s certainly not the fault of the Squib. They deserve to have a good life, just like everybody else.”

“What happens to them?” Harry asks.

Louise sighs. “It depends on the family, Harry. Some make every attempt to help them, and be familiar enough with the Muggle world to maintain contact. But a lot of families try to sweep them under the rug so that no one knows there’s a Squib in the family. That’s probably why Elaine’s parents wanted her to go to your school. There’s a more liberal attitude there than usual.”

Harry frowns. “That’s not fair!”

“But Squibs can’t do magic. They can’t live in the magical world,” Lionel points out. “It would be too hard for them.”

“That doesn’t mean they should lose their family,” Harry argues.

Lionel subsides. “No, I guess not.”

“There are a lot of different opinions about how we should deal with Muggles, and also how to deal with Squibs,” Louise says. “I happen to think that there are pros and cons, but that it’s best to treat everyone with respect, and to understand what is really driving them. Why do you think people would be afraid of Muggles and Squibs?”

Harry frowns, obviously thinking about the question, and Lionel pipes up with, “Because people are afraid? No one wants to be a Squib if they’re from a wizard family.”

“And it’s important to hear what’s beneath the words, right?” Louise adds. “Whether it’s fear or bigotry.”

Harry still seems to be thinking it over when they part ways and head back to their flat by way of the bookstore, where they pick up a basic potions book for Harry, and a book on potions theory that’s probably slightly over his head, but Harry’s a bright boy.

They pick up sandwiches for dinner, and Harry is quiet as he eats.

“What are you thinking about, pup?” Sirius asks.

Harry shrugs. “Just thinking about the Squibs who don’t get to stay with their families.”

Sirius thought it might be something like that, and he can understand why Harry would find that so concerning, having lost his own parents. “Anything else?”

“What would my parents have done if I didn’t have magic?” Harry asks, very subdued.

“They never would have stopped loving you, that’s for sure,” Sirius replies. “Lily grew up in a Muggle household, and she would have helped you learn how to navigate it, and James would be right there with her.”

Sirius wonders what Dumbledore would make of a Chosen One who’s a Squib, but based on the prophecy, that was never going to happen. Voldemort identified Harry as having power equal to his own, and he never would have marked a Squib.

Still, he can’t blame Harry for worrying.

“You know, Harry, a lot of parents who had a child bitten by a werewolf would have put them aside or hidden them, and my parents chose not to do that,” Remus says gently. “And I know that your parents loved you just as much as mine loved me.”

Harry smiles shyly. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” Remus replies. “I know how much James and Lily loved you, Harry. They would have done anything for you, whether you had magic or not.”

That seems to settle something in Harry’s mind, and he nods. “Okay.”

Sirius is almost grateful when it’s bedtime, because the conversation was a little heavier than he’d been expecting.

“You handled that really well,” Sirius says quietly. They have all their best conversations in bed, it seems, mostly because they can talk where Harry can’t hear.

“So did you,” Remus replies. “He could hear it from me because I could speak to his question. I had parents who accepted a difficult thing about me, and loved me anyway.”

“You were lucky,” Sirius says lightly. “My parents couldn’t accept that I was Gryffindor.”

“Your parents were idiots,” Remus replies.

“That’s a given.”

“I’m just grateful that you turned out as well as you did,” Remus says.

Sirius laughs. “So am I.”

Remus presses a kiss to his forehead. “Sleep. I think we’re good.”

And they are.

~~~~~

The next day, they walk Harry to school, and Louise sends a Patronus an hour later. Her Patronus takes the form of a sleek cat, a serval if Sirius’ memory serves him, with large ears and a cunning expression.

“There’s a cafe with a private room we can use,” the serval says, giving the address of the cafe. “Perhaps you would prefer that.”

The Patronus dissipates, and Sirius sends back his own with a confirmation that they’ll meet her there shortly.

“Why do you think she opted for the cafe?” Sirius asks.

“An overabundance of caution?” Remus suggests. “Perhaps she’s concerned that she’ll be followed, or she wants to keep her distance from us. I wouldn’t blame her either way.”

They pull on their coats and make their way to the designated meeting place. Louise is waiting for them, and she leads the way to a narrow set of stairs and a small room.

“I’ve used this place for private meetings before,” Louise explains. “I know the owners, and their security is impeccable. They also guarantee our privacy, and will keep our identities secret.”

“That all sounds good,” Sirius replies. “Why here and not our flat?”

“No offense, boys, but I’ve been doing this longer than either of you have been alive,” Louise replies. “And I don’t plan on coming to the attention of the ICW or the British Ministry.”

“Fair enough,” Remus agrees. “Can you tell us what you found out?”

Louise nods. “In a bit. I hope you two are hungry.”

They know what she means a few minutes later when someone brings in carafes of coffee and tea and a platter full of croissants, good ham, and cheese, as well as a plate of fruit.

“This looks great,” Sirius says. “Thank you.”

“All part of the service,” Louise replies. “It’s one of the reasons I like meeting here. Any leftovers, you can take home.”

“We’re not that hopeless,” Sirius objects.

“No, but I like knowing that Harry is well-fed, and he loves pastries, as we all know.” The door closes behind the waiter, and Remus gets up to pour coffee for Sirius and Harry, and tea for himself. “And now we can speak honestly. I was able to review the wards.”

Sirius suspects that the news isn’t good, based on her precautions. “And?”

“I believe that Harry’s mother established blood wards to protect her sister and her family, but they were never intended to protect Harry,” Louise explains. “Those protections were laid over the top, and they were good, very good, but they depend on Harry’s physical presence.”

“So, they were failing?” Remus asks.

“They had already failed,” Louise corrects him. “Families who care about their children, even if missing or having run away, will keep a light on. If they’d done that, I think the wards would have been weak, but I wouldn’t have found what I did.”

“What do we do?” Sirius asks.

“I will help you shore up your wards, but there was no sign from the Muggles that they even missed Harry,” Louise replies. “I’ve seen wards like that before, and it depends on allowing the person house-room.”

“You mean they have to be welcomed, no matter how reluctantly,” Remus clarifies.

“And Harry never was,” Sirius says.

“Not from what I saw,” Louise confirms. “They operated as though he’d never been there at all.”

Sirius shakes his head. “So, no one missed him.”

“No one did,” Louise confirms. “Dumbledore has a lot to answer for.”

“Can we recreate the protections?” Sirius asks.

Louise shakes her head. “No. Not now that they’ve fallen. I can help you create stronger wards, but the protections built on _those_ were built on a shaky foundation to begin with. As I said, they were meant to protect Lily’s blood relations while she was in harm’s way.”

That just confirms what Sirius already knew. It’s not just about Harry’s protection, but about something Dumbledore believes he’ll achieve. Bottom line, though, this had never been Lily or James’ intent.

“Do you think they’re in danger?” Sirius asks reluctantly.

Louise snorts. “Them? Not unless Harry’s on the premises. They’re as non-magical as they come, and no one would ever tie them to Lily Potter. Different last names, different worlds. Voldemort won’t be able to tie the two together, not anymore.”

Sirius suspected as much. Right now, Harry is known in the magical world as Sirius’ godson. His blood relatives are a non-issue at this point.

“So, it doesn’t really matter what Dumbledore wants,” Sirius says. “The wards he counted on to protect Harry are gone, and can’t be recreated.”

Louise nods. “But I think Harry likely carries protection in his blood, since his mother sacrificed herself to save him.”

“And my godfather’s oath?” Sirius asks.

Louise nods. “We can build something similar on that for your wards, but the fact remains that it’s just not a good idea to tie wards to a location like that. He was relying on nothing happening to Harry’s aunt and uncle.”

“How do you mean?” Remus asks, finishing up his tea.

“What if they’d been in an accident?” Louise asks. “What if they’d been killed, or one of them had been killed? What if his aunt sickened and died? As near as I can tell, there was no contingency plan.”

Sirius considers that, the ramifications had something happened to Harry’s aunt and uncle. The idea makes him feel sick.

Louise clears her throat. “Let me know if you want some help with the wards, but I should be on my way. Enjoy the rest of the pastries.”

“Thank you, Louise,” Sirius says. “Your help has been invaluable, and we can’t thank you enough.”

“I did it for Harry,” Louise replies with some asperity. “He needs everyone in his corner that he can get, obviously.”

She hugs them both before she leaves, and Sirius looks at Remus. “I hadn’t even thought about what might have happened if…”

Remus grimaces. “I think we can both be grateful that nothing did.”

“Do you think Dumbledore will bend?” Sirius asks.

Remus leans back in his chair and seems to consider it carefully. “I think we should tell him to check the wards at the Dursleys’ house. Maybe once he sees they’ve collapsed, he might be willing to come to the table. Then, if we can show him the strength of our wards, and how well Harry is doing, he might understand why Harry belongs with us.”

Sirius nods slowly. “All right. I’ll suggest that Miriam contact him. At least we’re safe enough here for the moment.”

That night, they eat at the Deschamps’ flat, which is larger than their own and well appointed, but certainly lived in. The walls are wallpapered in cheerful prints, with overstuffed furniture and brightly colored cushions.

Denis Deschamps is a tall, dark-skinned man with close-cropped hair and a ready grin. He pours wine liberally, and they sit down around a table with the leaves in. There’s a blue and white tablecloth and white plates, which show off the roast lamb, potatoes and roasted vegetables.

Lionel and Harry chatter away like magpies on one end of the table with Louise listening on, and Sirius and Remus speak with Diana and Denis. Diana is a healer at the wizard hospital in Paris, while Denis is a surgeon at a Muggle hospital. Both of them speak generally about their jobs and tease each other about the differences between Muggle and wizard medicine.

Maybe they’ll never be able to go back to England, but they can build a pretty good life in France.


	6. Part the Sixth: In Which Sirius and Dumbledore Meet Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And that's all she wrote for this one, folks! There may very well be more in this timeline, so stay tuned.

Sirius sends a letter off to Miriam, asking her to intervene for them, and then he tries to forget about it. Louise helps them create even stronger wards at both the flat and the farmhouse, and Harry settles back down into school.

Remus starts to explore other opportunities now that they’re safe, and appear to be staying in France for the foreseeable future. A chance conversation with the bookshop owner reveals that Remus has done some procurement in the past, and the owner offers Remus a part-time job.

The job involves travel, but it’s flexible enough that Remus can work around the full moons, before Sirius knows it, it’s coming up on Christmas.

“I think we should spend Christmas at the farmhouse,” Sirius says one night early in December.

“I agree,” Remus replies. “I’ve already asked for the time off.”

“Denis says they’ll spend Christmas with Louise, so Lionel will be there as well,” Sirius says.

Remus snorts. “When did you see Denis?”

“I went to pick Harry up, and he offered a glass of wine,” Sirius replies. Harry had been invited for dinner at Lionel’s house, and Sirius had gone for a solo dinner at a nearby cafe. Remus had been traveling, and Sirius had been grateful for the company.

Diana had been working late, and Denis is warm and engaging, and they talked about their kids and families. Sirius had found it rather novel to speak with another father, another family man, other than Remus.

“I’m glad you’ve made a friend,” Remus replies. “Sometimes, I worry about you.”

“Why?” Sirius asks.

“Because you don’t have anything other than me and Harry,” Remus replies. “And we both have other things and people in our lives.”

“What, you think I should have a job?” Sirius jokes.

Remus hesitates. “You never have before, but I also think you need something other than Harry in your life.”

Sirius thinks about that for a moment. “I just want to focus on Harry, Moony. There were so many years that I missed out on, and so much I should have been a part of. I don’t want to have any distractions, other than you.”

“Am I distraction?” Remus asks coyly.

“A little bit,” Sirius replies with a smile, and kisses him lightly. “But I don’t need anything or anyone else, not right now.”

“What happens when you do?”

“Then I’ll find a job, or a hobby,” Sirius replies. “But I also want to wait until Harry’s at school. I’ll need a distraction then.”

“Fair enough,” Remus says. “I understand why Harry needs to be your primary focus right now.”

“Thank you for understanding,” Sirius replies, and then turns back to the subject of Christmas. “We’ll need a tree and decorations.”

“We’ll get them,” Remus promises. “I have to leave for another buying trip the day after tomorrow, but as soon as I get home, we’ll go shopping. What are you thinking about getting Harry for Christmas?”

“I was thinking a better broom and full Quidditch kit,” Sirius admits. “He’s doing well with that, and there’s a summer league.”

“That seems like a good plan,” Remus replies.

“And you?” Sirius asks.

Remus smirks. “I just wanted to be sure that we weren’t going to double up.”

“Meaning that you already got his gift, and you aren’t going to tell me what it is,” Sirius replies dryly.

“I may have found something on my last trip,” Remus admits. “But I’ll let it be a surprise.”

Sirius kisses him fondly, glad to see Remus so happy. “Keep your secrets.”

’Tis the season for these small secrets, after all.

~~~~~

Sirius keeps expecting Harry’s excitement for Christmas to spill over, but he seems oblivious to the upcoming holiday in spite of the roasted chestnuts, the lights, and the garlands.

“Did you want to go shopping for Christmas presents?” Sirius asks. “Your uncle Moony and I are planning to go this weekend.”

Harry frowns. “Christmas presents?”

“Sure, if there’s something you want to get for Moony, or your friends, maybe you’d like to go,” Sirius says.

Harry is on his knees at the kitchen table working on his maths homework. He’s changed out of his school uniform and is wearing a green cable-knit sweater and jeans. Tibere is sitting on the table next to him, keeping an eye on Harry.

“I’ve never bought Christmas gifts for anybody,” Harry replies, looking a little troubled. “What if I get a bad gift?”

“It’s the thought that counts, Harry, but I doubt you would get anybody a bad gift,” Sirius replies. “When you know someone, you just think about what you would like to receive if you were them.”

“I guess we can go shopping,” Harry says, although he still sounds dubious.

Sirius knows Harry well enough by now to know that Harry doesn’t quite know what to do with birthdays and holidays. Eventually, he hopes Harry will get comfortable with such celebrations, but this is their first Christmas together.

“I think we’re going over to Louise’s for Christmas dinner, since her family is going to be there,” Sirius adds. “We’ve been invited, anyway, which is good, because I don’t think I’m up to making the full spread yet.”

Harry smiles. “I think you’d do a good job.”

“I appreciate your faith in me,” Sirius replies and ruffles Harry’s hair affectionately. “Still, Therese will be home, and I think Ines will be there as well.”

Harry perks up at that. “I haven’t seen Ines since the summer.”

“She’s been working in Geneva for Gringotts as a curse-breaker,” Sirius reminds him.

Harry shrugs. “I know that, but I liked Ines.”

Sirius suspects that Harry has a bit of a crush on Ines, and it’s adorable. “I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you, too, pup. How’s that homework coming?”

“Almost done with maths, but I still have reading,” Harry says. “But I like saving reading for last.”

“What are you reading now?” Sirius asks.

“We’re reading about the French revolution right now,” Harry replies, launching into a description of the book they’re currently reading.

Evenings like these are what Sirius holds most dear. Quiet nights where they aren’t doing anything special, but are simply going through their usual routine.

Out of the blue, Harry says, “Lionel mentioned a game he wanted. Do you think that would be a good gift?”

“That’s exactly the kind of gift I was talking about earlier,” Sirius confirms.

“What do you think Uncle Moony would like?” Harry asks.

Sirius has been struggling to come with an answer to that himself. “I don’t know, Pronglet. I think we’ll both have to look around this weekend, because I don’t know what I’m going to get him either.”

“Maybe something for traveling?” Harry muses. “He’s been doing that more lately.”

“I think Moony likes having a job again,” Sirius replies. “You’re okay with it?”

Harry nods. “But I’m glad you aren’t traveling.”

“I don’t want to miss out on spending any time with you,” Sirius replies simply. “You won’t be rid of me that easily.”

Harry flushes with pleasure. “I don’t want to get rid of you at all.”

“Good,” Sirius replies.

Sirius makes beans on toast for dinner, and Harry helps clean up, and then Harry begins to get ready for bed without being prompted.

Sirius makes hot chocolate for Harry, and pours a glass of red wine for himself, and then they settle in his study for a quiet hour of reading with Harry in his pajamas. Tibere settles across Harry’s legs where he’s stretched out in the window seat, and Nigel sits in Harry’s lap as a patient prop for his book.

A tapping at the window disturbs the peace, and Harry looks a little alarmed. “I’ll get it,” Sirius says. “It sounds like someone sent an owl.”

He recognizes the owl as belonging to Miriam, and Sirius opens the window. “Come on in. Do you need a reply?”

The owl shakes out his feathers and holds out his leg with the letter attached. And then he immediately takes off again, and that answers Sirius’ question.

“What is it, Padfoot?” Harry calls.

“A letter from Miriam, pup,” Sirius calls back. “Don’t worry about it.”

He reads the letter quickly, and then a little more slowly.

_Dear Sirius,_

_I hope this letter finds you and Harry well. As you requested, I did contact Albus Dumbledore with the information you gave me about the wards around Harry’s relatives’ house. So far, I haven’t heard anything back, but perhaps no news is good news at this point. I’m sorry I don’t have anything more for you, but I hope you all have a happy Christmas._

_Best,_

_Miriam_

“Is everything okay?” Harry asks.

Sirius nods. “Nothing has changed, Pronglet.”

“ _That’s_ what she wanted to tell us?” Harry asks.

Sirius shrugs. “I asked her to contact Albus Dumbledore to see if he would help us be able to go back to England, and she wanted to let me know that she had done so, but Dumbledore hasn’t replied.”

“Do we really _want_ to go back to England?” Harry asks dubiously. “I like it here.”

Sirius smiles. “So do I. And I don’t know that we do want to go back, but wouldn’t you like to have the option?”

“I guess,” Harry replies, appearing troubled.

“But?” Sirius prompts.

“Sometimes it’s easier if you don’t have a choice,” Harry muses.

Sirius thinks he understands. “You have a say in where we live, too, Harry. If you decide you want to live in France, we’ll stay here.”

Harry smiles briefly. “Thanks.”

Sirius is beginning to think that they won’t be leaving France any time soon, and he wonders what Dumbledore will make of that.

~~~~~

By the end of the weekend, Harry seems to be a little more excited for Christmas. He and Remus take Harry out shopping, and split up at various times to allow each of them to make separate, secret purchases.

Sirius makes sure that Harry has his own money so he can make his own purchases, and as Harry picks out gifts for his friends and Remus—and himself, Sirius knows, but pretends he doesn’t—he starts bouncing.

It’s a chilly day, and Harry’s cheeks are flushed with the cold and excitement. Sirius buys a paper cone of roasted chestnuts, which Harry devours. There are crepes and hot chocolate, and it’s a day of overindulgence, but Harry deserves it.

Harry has a predictable sugar crash that evening, whining a bit as Sirius chivvies him into eating some cheese on toast just to give him something substantial.

“Come on, Harry,” Sirius says quietly. “You need to eat something, and then you can go to bed. We had a good day today.”

Harry subsides, pausing for a moment, and then he offers a tired grin. “Sorry.”

“You’re fine, pup,” Sirius tells him with an affectionate ruffle of his hair. “But there’s no sense getting upset when you’re just tired.”

Harry’s grin is sheepish. “Yeah.”

“Are you okay?” Sirius asks.

Harry nods. “I’m going to get ready for bed.”

“Good choice,” Sirius replies.

Remus slaps him on the back. “That was well handled.”

Sirius sighs. “Thanks.”

“We had a good day,” Remus says. “There was no need to spoil it.”

“He’s a good boy,” Sirius reflects. “But he’s still a child, and I knew the sugar crash was coming.”

“When did you want to leave for the farmhouse?” Remus asks.

Sirius thinks about it. “The day after tomorrow should be fine. That will give us time to decorate.”

“Where are we getting the tree?” Remus asks.

Sirius shrugs. “I thought we could go tomorrow, then shrink it. If we put a stasis charm on it, the effect won’t be too drastic.”

Shrinking something like a Christmas tree will cause it to become brittle much faster, but if they immediately put a stasis charm on it, it will appear fresh indefinitely. Or at least through the holiday.

“Are there decorations?” Remus asks.

“There should be some in the attic,” Sirius replies. “If not, we can probably come up with something. We both took top marks in transfiguration, after all.”

Remus snorts. “I should hope so. How is Harry doing with his potions book?”

“He’s finished it, and has indicated renewed interest in that, cooking, and household charms,” Sirius replies dryly. “Because his life would have been much easier had he been able to use magic to clean.”

Remus chuckles. “So, we may have a budding potions master, or possibly a chef, or maybe Harry will make someone a fine house-husband.”

“As long as he’s happy,” Sirius replies. “And it’s not as though he doesn’t have a good example right here at home.”

Remus kisses him lightly. “You make an excellent house-husband, it’s true.”

“It doesn’t hurt that I’m independently wealthy,” Sirius admits.

“No, it certainly doesn’t,” Remus replies. “Although it’s certainly not your best quality.”

“That’s good to know,” Sirius teases. “I would like to think I have a few other redeeming qualities.”

Remus smirks at him. “Maybe just a few.”

And then Sirius casts a silencing charm and proceeds to show Remus just how many stellar qualities he has.

~~~~~

Harry is incredibly excited the next day when they go to pick out a Christmas tree. He’s at least pragmatic enough not to insist on the biggest tree, more intent on finding the one with the best overall shape. He takes his job very seriously, giving every tree very deliberate consideration that’s pretty adorable.

He finally makes his decision, a very nicely shaped tree that’s about six feet tall, that will fit nicely in their living room at the farmhouse.

“Good job, pup,” Sirius says. “I think it will be perfect.”

Harry beams. “Really?”

“Absolutely,” Sirius says, putting an arm around Harry’s shoulders. “I can’t wait to see it at home.”

“Me, too!” Harry says enthusiastically. “Do we have enough decorations?”

“I don’t know, but I think we can create some if we need to do so.” Sirius pulls him in for a tight hug. “Just you wait. This will be the best Christmas yet.”

Harry snorts. “That’s a very low bar.”

Sirius keeps seeing signs of the sassy teenager that he knows Harry will be come, with a sense of sarcasm that reminds him of Lily. Lily had an ability to skewer people with words as well.

That dry observation makes Sirius laugh. “Yeah, for me too, Harry. Let’s just be grateful that it’s going to be a good holiday for both of us.”

Harry hugs him back, and Sirius is grateful for small favors.

The trip to the farmhouse is routine by now, and they pack up Tibere and Nigel, and the little luggage they need, and they take a portkey. The very first thing Sirius does is take the tree out of his pocket to resize it, immediately putting a stasis charm on it to keep the needles from dropping off.

“How’s that?” Sirius asks, holding it in place with magic.

“We’ll need a tree stand,” Remus says.

Sirius smirks. “Oh, ye of little faith.” He casts a sticking charm. “That should take care of it.”

The tree starts tipping over a few seconds later, and Remus is the one close enough to catch it. “You were saying?”

“I think I’ll go find that tree stand,” Sirius says, and runs up the stairs.

“Please remember this next time when I tell you we need a tree stand!” Remus calls after him, but Sirius can hear Harry’s laughter.

He’s grateful that the Christmas decorations are in a clearly marked box, or boxes, and that includes the stand. He floats the box with the stand downstairs, and then grabs the second one.

Remus is wrestling the tree into the stand with Harry’s help, and he complains, “You could have grabbed the tree stand first.”

Sirius grins. “I could have, but then I would have missed the hilarious sight of you grabbing for the tree.”

“Hilarious, huh?” Remus asks, although there’s a smile pulling at his lips.

“So funny,” Harry agrees with a smirk. “But it was really unnecessary.”

“You are a traitor,” Sirius accuses him.

“I said it was funny!” Harry protests.

“You said it was unnecessary!” Sirius replies.

Harry glares at him. “I feel that was obvious from the situation.”

And Sirius just starts laughing, and Remus does as well, so much so that the tree starts listing, and Harry has to hold it up. “Seriously? You two are losing it now?”

But they’re laughing too hard to helps and Harry rolls his eyes, and the tree abruptly straightens.

“There,” Harry says. “I fixed it for you.”

“You are absolutely brilliant,” Sirius says, getting his voice back quickly. “Well done on the use of magic, Pronglet.”

“Could you hurry it up?” Harry asks. “I can’t hold it forever.”

That suggests real control—wandless control—and Sirius probably shouldn’t start teaching him wandless control now, but he can’t see why not.

“Hold that thought, Harry,” Sirius says. “Can you feel what it’s like to hold the tree in place?”

Harry nods. “Sure. That’s how I’m holding it up.” He says it as though the question is stupid.

Sirius chuckles breathlessly. “You’re incredible, pup. We’re going to start working on wandless spells, because you have a knack for them.”

“I thought you needed a wand to do magic,” Harry says.

“Most people do,” Remus replies. “But your parents were both very talented, and it’s no surprise that you take after them.”

Harry beams. “Really?”

“Absolutely,” Remus replies. “Thank you for your help.”

They get the tree in place, and then they began pulling out the decorations, many of them terribly dated, but they make Harry giggle. There are weird porcelain figures that are apparently supposed to go on the tree, in the shape of shepherds and shepherdesses.

“Why?” Harry asks between giggles.

“I have no idea, but let’s put them back in the box,” Sirius replies. “I’d hate to see them get broken.”

“Also, they’d probably give me nightmares,” Harry comments.

Sirius laughs at his dry tone, and notes that Harry really is mastering the art of sarcasm.

He’s so very proud.

They put lights on the tree, and ribbons, and some glass ornaments that aren’t too horrific. The branches aren’t crowded, but it looks nice overall, and Harry pronounces himself satisfied as well. “This looks way better than and of the trees the Dursleys put up.”

“I think it looks good, too,” Remus agrees, patting Harry on the shoulder. “Good job, Harry.”

Harry preens a bit, and it’s good to see him with a bit of confidence. He’ll never have James’ swagger, but that’s probably a good thing.

“You should get to bed, Pronglet,” Sirius says. “It’s late.”

Harry sighs, but doesn’t argue. “Can we try wandless magic tomorrow?”

“We certainly can,” Sirius promises. “But you’ll need your rest for that.”

Harry practically skips up the stairs with that promise, and Remus gives Sirius a look. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

“I think it certainly won’t hurt him to be able to do a few wandless spells for his own protection,” Sirius says. “It’s managed to get me out of a couple of tough spots in the past.”

Remus shrugs. “You make an excellent point.”

“And now I think I’m for bed as well,” Sirius says. “What about you?”

“Right behind you,” Remus replies. “I still have wrapping to do.”

Sirius kisses him lightly. “Fine. Keep your secrets.”

“’Tis the season,” Remus teases.

~~~~~

The next night is the full moon, so Remus locks himself in one of the bedrooms. Sirius offers to transform and spend the night with him as Padfoot, but Remus gently insists that Sirius be available in case Harry has another nightmare.

“I can hear him from in there,” Sirius protests.

“I’m sure you can,” Remus replies. “But I would feel better if I knew you were available to Harry.”

Sirius has to give up at that. Once Remus makes up his mind about something, he’s not going to budge.

Still, it’s good to see Remus the following morning looking a bit tired and peaky, but not nearly as trashed as he used to look before the Wolfsbane.

Sirius makes scrambled eggs and toast for breakfast, and Remus manages to eat something along with his tea. Harry is a little subdued, sensing that Remus is under the weather, but he can also barely contain his enthusiasm, both for the holiday, and for learning magic.

“Don’t mind me,” Remus says. “I think I might get some reading done if you don’t mind.”

“Are you feeling okay, Uncle Moony?” Harry inquires.

“Just a little tired this morning,” Remus assures him. “Padfoot’s medicine helps me quite a bit.”

Harry grins. “He was really smart to come up with that.”

“He was, indeed,” Remus agrees, with a fond look for Sirius. “Good luck, Harry.”

Sirius takes Harry into one of the upstairs bedrooms that’s not in use. “Okay, pup. There’s no shame if you don’t get it right away, or even if you don’t get it at all. Most wizards and witches don’t even attempt wandless magic, and they certainly don’t attempt it at your age.”

Harry frowns. “Then why are we doing it?”

“Because knowing how to do wandless magic can save your life,” Sirius replies. “What if you lose your wand, or you get stuck somewhere without it?”

Harry nods, a serious expression on his face. “What kind of spells can you do without a wand?”

“That depends entirely on the wizard,” Sirius replies. “In theory, a wizard could do just about any spell without a wand.”

“But most of them don’t try,” Harry adds.

“But most don’t try,” Sirius agrees. “But most wizards weren’t in a war, like I was.”

Harry frowns. “Like my parents.”

“Like your parents, too,” Sirius says.

Harry considers that for a long moment. “Like I’m going to be?”

Sirius never wants to lie to Harry. “I never want you to be involved in a war, Pronglet, but that may not be up to me, or to you. When there is evil in the world, or people who would harm others, it’s our responsibility to stand up to that. Sometimes, that means fighting.”

Harry nods. “Then I should always be prepared just in case.”

Sirius sighs. “Unfortunately, that does seem to be prudent, although I wish that wasn’t so. Now, let’s start with what might be the most effective spell for when you’re in a tight spot. That’s _expelliarmus_.”

“What does that do?” Harry asks.

“It disarms your opponent,” Sirius replies. “Which is very handy when they have a wand and you don’t.”

Harry brightens. “Especially since they won’t know wandless magic.”

“There’s a really good chance of that, but never count on your opponent not knowing something in order to win,” Sirius warns him. “If you ever duel someone, you must keep that in mind.”

Harry nods seriously. “Do people just duel in war?”

“No, they duel for fun, too,” Sirius says. “Just like playing Quidditch, or broom racing.”

Harry cocks his head. “Like karate?”

“I don’t know what that is,” Sirius admits.

“It’s a Muggle sport for fighting,” Harry explains. “Where you use your hands and feet to defend yourself. Dudley used to pretend he could do it.”

“I’m guessing that wasn’t terribly pleasant for you,” Sirius replies.

Harry shrugs. “I could run faster than him and his friends.”

“Sometimes, running is the best thing you can do for yourself,” Sirius agrees. “Okay, now say the word after me. _Expelliarmus_.”

Harry repeats it, mispronouncing it at first.

Sirius repeats it again, and Harry gets it right that time. “Good, pup. Very good. Now, remember what it felt like to hold the tree up last night, and channel that into the word. You want to send the wand flying.”

“It won’t hurt you, will it?” Harry asks.

“Not a bit,” Sirius promises, privately doubting that Harry will have much success.

Harry frowns. “ _Expelliarmus_!”

Nothing happens, and he frowns, clearly disappointed.

“That’s okay, Harry,” Sirius says soothingly. “Remember what I said. This isn’t easy for experienced wizards.”

Harry pouts. “But it was so easy to hold the tree up last night!”

“Why was it easy?” Sirius asks, hoping to help Harry identify the difference in what happened last night, and what he’s missing right now.

Harry’s gaze seems to turn inward, and then he says, “I really wanted for the tree not to fall, because I didn’t want to see anybody get hurt.”

Sirius isn’t surprised at Harry’s strong protective instincts, but beyond pointing his wand at Harry and threatening him, he’s not sure how to trigger them to goad Harry into using wandless magic.

“What if someone was threatening me?” Sirius asks.

Harry looks horrified. “I don’t want you to get hurt!”

“But if someone was threatening me, you could probably do it,” Sirius says. “Just a second.”

He goes to find Remus in the study. “I need you to curse me.”

Remus is stretched out on the sofa, reading a book, looking rumpled and sleepy. “Excuse me?”

“I need you to curse me, in front of Harry,” Sirius explains. “To help him.”

“While there was a time when I would have happily hexed the daylights out of you, I have no desire to do so right now.” Remus turns back to his book. “Find another way, Padfoot.”

“I just need Harry to _feel_ what it’s like one time,” Sirius wheedles. “He’ll know how to do it then.”

“What are you trying to teach him?” Remus asks with a sigh.

“ _Expelliarmus_.”

Remus pinches the bridge of his nose, as though he has a headache coming on. “Because it would serve him quite well if a full grown wizard came after him.”

“That’s the idea, yes, but I framed it as a game,” Sirius admits. “Although he knows there’s a chance that he might be in a war at some point.”

Remus sighs. “Is that really necessary?”

“He asked, and I refuse to lie to him,” Sirius replies. “Will you help?”

Remus glares at him. “No, but I’ll let you curse me.”

“I’m not going to curse you!” Sirius protests. “I don’t—“

“Okay, I get the point,” Sirius mutters after a long, pointed silence.

“But I can help you with an illusion,” Remus says. “It might be realistic enough.”

Sirius shrugs. “I guess that’s what we have to work with.”

Remus follows him upstairs, and Harry appears a little apprehensive. “I don’t want anybody to get hurt.”

“No one is going to hurt anybody, but we do have a solution,” Sirius says. “All right, Remus, let’s see it.”

“Put your wand down,” Remus replies, and then he casts what looks like a very real illusion of a menacing wizard pointing a wand at Sirius.

Harry glances at Sirius, who nods. “It’s okay, Harry.”

The wizard steps towards Sirius, and Harry shouts, “ _Expelliarmus_!”

The illusory wand goes flying, and the illusion dissipates. Harry stares, open-mouthed, and then he turns to Sirius, his eyes bright with excitement. “I did it!”

“You definitely did,” Sirius replies, giving him a hug. “Good job, pup.”

“Can I try again?” Harry asks eagerly.

“One illusion only, sorry, Harry,” Remus apologizes.

Harry shakes his head. “No, I think I have the feel for it now. I can do it!”

Sirius picks up his wand. “Okay, let’s see it, Pronglet.”

“ _Expelliarmus_!” Harry says, and Sirius’ wand goes flying.

Remus applauds. “Well done, Harry!”

James had been a whiz at defense, too, and Sirius knows that Harry will show the same knack eventually. He just hadn’t quite expected to Harry to show so much promise so early.

“You’re a natural, Harry, just like I thought,” Sirius replies. “We’ll work on it a little bit every day.”

“Can we do more today?” Harry asks.

Sirius hesitates, and looks to Remus. “Just a few more times. You shouldn’t push yourself too hard, Harry. You’re young, and you don’t want to burn out early. That’s one of the reasons that most wizards and witches don’t start school until age eleven.”

“But a lot of old wizarding families start training earlier,” Sirius points out. “It gives their kids an advantage when they do go to school.”

Remus nods. “Fair. Just keep the sessions short to minimize the risks.”

“All right, Harry, you heard your Uncle Moony,” Sirius says. “You only have a few tries, so let’s make them count.”

Harry gets it right three out of five times. He misses the second and third times, like he loses the knack, but the fourth and fifth tries are successful with increasing force.

“Good job,” Sirius says. “That’s enough for today, but that was very well done, Pronglet.”

Harry grins, and then abruptly yawns. “I’m really tired,” he says, sounding surprised.

Sirius laughs. “Your uncle Moony is right. Magic takes energy, and you have more resources when you’re older. We have to take this slow and careful.”

Harry grimaces. “I understand, I guess.”

“Why don’t you go lay down for a bit before lunch?” Sirius suggests. “You don’t have to sleep, but maybe read for a little bit.”

Harry agrees reluctantly, and trudges up to his room, and Sirius goes to join Remus in the study.

“I knew he was precocious, but we’re going to have a hard time keeping him challenged,” Remus comments. “And I hate to say it, but Harry is going to have a hard time staying challenged in school.”

It was different, Sirius knows, when Harry had grown up in the Muggle world and then gone to Hogwarts. The learning curve was steep, and no one really pushed Harry to succeed, or helped him to do so. Granted, Hermione had certainly cared, and prodded Harry to do better, but that had been a peer, not an adult.

This time, by the time Harry goes to school, he’ll know how to use a quill as well as a Muggle implement, and he’ll have a grounding in potions and wandless magic.

And Sirius isn’t sure that he can stomach Harry being taught by Snape, and seeing his delight snuffed out.

Sirius sighs. “I realize that. He’s bright, he picks things up quickly, and he’ll be very magically skilled. Unfortunately, that also means that I’m not sure Hogwarts will be the right setting for him, not unless we have certain guarantees from Dumbledore.”

“I think we both need to accept the idea that Hogwarts may not be feasible, and that he might be better served by learning at home,” Remus says. “You have the resources to do that.”

“I might, but Harry deserves to have relationships with his peers as much as he needs to excel, and I think it might just tell us which school is right for him based on how willing they are to work with us,” Sirius replies.

“Fair point,” Remus says. He shrugs. “Well, at least we have some time, right? We can start doing real research in a couple of years.”

“I suppose so,” Sirius replies, although he doesn’t know that they’ll have any more answers than they do now, but he doesn’t mind putting it off.

~~~~~

They spend Christmas Eve with Louise and her family. Therese has shot up a couple of inches, and is clearly blossoming into a mature young woman. She’s a bit standoffish with the boys, which disappoints both Lionel and Harry, but Ines is willing to get down on the floor with them to admire and play with their gifts.

Harry receives a brilliantly illustrated bestiary from Lionel and his family, and Harry had given Lionel a selection of sweets and the board game Harry had found at their favorite bookstore in Paris.

Ines and Sirius sit on the floor with the boys and the game, helping them with the rules, and starting to play.

“It’s a bit like Snakes and Ladders, isn’t it?” Harry asks.

“What’s that?” Lionel asks.

Harry shrugs. “A Muggle game, but this one is more fun.”

Louise has made a roast goose with all the trimmings, and there’s wine for the adults and fizzy lemonade for the kids. Sirius is grateful to be included, and for Harry to have the opportunity to see what a family is like. Or, what a different sort of family is like, much like the Potters had shown him a different way of seeing the world.

When they go home later that night, Harry is clearly tired but happy, and he says, “I didn’t know Christmas could be like this.”

“This is just the beginning, Pronglet,” Sirius promises. “I will always do my best to make sure the holidays are happy.”

He and Remus wait until Harry’s asleep to put the presents under the tree, and when that’s done, Sirius tucks his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his heels. “It looks really good, doesn’t it?”

“This has been a really good Christmas,” Remus agrees. “The best I’ve had in long time.”

Sirius wraps an arm around Remus’ shoulders. “I’m glad to hear that, and even gladder to have you here.”

“I remember Harry’s first Christmas,” Remus murmurs. “He was so small.”

Harry hadn’t been quite five months old, and they had all been together, even Peter. Sirius remembers monopolizing Harry that day, marveling at how small he was, and delighting in every smile and giggle, transfixing Harry with small illusions and floating balls of light.

He’d really been too young to know what was going on, but that hadn’t stopped Sirius from buying too many toys. Sirius just wanted to spoil his godson.

This year is different, of course, but Sirius still wants to spoil Harry just a little bit. Harry deserves it.

“I didn’t go overboard, did I?” Sirius asks.

“No more than you usually do,” Remus teases. “But a little indulgence isn’t going to hurt him. He deserves to know that he’s loved, and that he’s important.”

Since that’s all Sirius wants, he’s grateful to hear those words.

“We should get to sleep,” Sirius says wryly. “I suspect that Harry will be up early.”

“Almost certainly,” Remus replies.

Sure enough, Harry is up with the sun, but he doesn’t come in to wake them. Instead, Sirius wakes up to the smell of bacon and coffee.

Remus stirs next to him. “Do I smell breakfast?”

“You do,” Sirius replies. “I think that’s Harry.”

“It had better be,” Remus says. “I would hate to think that someone broke in, even if it was just to make breakfast.”

Sirius chuckles and rolls out of bed, pulling on a robe over his pajamas and sliding his feet into slippers. “I’ve been woken up in worse ways.”

“So have I,” Remus replies, copying Sirius’ actions.

Sirius comes down the stairs and finds Harry in the kitchen, carefully turning the bacon while standing on a stool. “You didn’t have to make breakfast, pup.”

“I wanted to,” Harry says determinedly. “To thank you for everything.”

Sirius drops a kiss on the top of Harry’s head. “There are no thanks necessary, but I appreciate the gesture.”

He makes the toast, and when Remus comes down, he starts the kettle for tea. Harry doesn’t seem to be in a hurry to get to the presents, maybe because he’s never had the chance to be excited for them in the past.

Once they’ve eaten, they move into the living room, and begin opening their gifts. Harry gets an atlas from Remus, with magical illustrations that move and allow him to interact with them. It’s a gorgeous book, and Harry is clearly excited by it. Sirius has given him a couple of new sweaters, a cookery book, and a basic potions set, as well as sweets. He’d decided to forgo the new broom until spring, when the junior Quidditch league started up.

Sirius and Harry had purchased a new coat for Remus, a heavy, smart wool peacoat that Remus clearly loves. Harry’s gift to Sirius is a leather-bound photo album. “I thought we could fill it with pictures together,” Harry says shyly.

“I would love that, Pronglet,” Sirius replies.

“And now for my gift,” Remus says, handing Sirius a box.

Sirius grins when he sees the camera, a wizarding one that prints its own pictures. “Let’s give it a try, shall we?”

Within a few minutes, Sirius has a trio of pictures, and sticks them in the album with a basic sticking charm. “This is lovely. Thank you both.”

Harry hugs Sirius around the neck. “Thank you! This was the best Christmas ever!”

“I’m glad you think so, Harry,” Sirius replies. “It’s been good for me, too.”

Harry spends the morning playing with his new toys, and then that afternoon, Lionel comes over with his new toys to play with Harry. It’s a bit too cold to fly, but the boys seem to have a good time playing board games and exploring Harry’s new atlas.

The following day, Boxing Day, Louise brings Lionel back over. The weather has warmed sufficiently to allow the two to go flying with instructions not to go too high.

“Let’s see what we can do about your wards, hm?” Louise says. “I believe we can strengthen them considerably.”

They work hard for the rest of the afternoon, and Louise demonstrates her expertise in building wards based on the oath Sirius took as Harry’s godfather. By the end, the wards are stronger than ever, and Sirius and Remus will be able to duplicate the protections at their flat in Paris as well.

“I think that should do it,” Louise says at the end of the afternoon. “I doubt that anyone with evil intent for Harry will be able to step foot on the property at this point. And if they do, they’re going to feel it.”

“We really can’t thank you enough, Louise,” Sirius replies.

Louise waves off his thanks. “I would do the same for any child. All children deserve safety, and Harry needs it more than most.”

“Still, your expertise has been invaluable,” Remus adds. “I didn’t realize how much ward expertise you had.”

Louise shrugs. “I’ve led an interesting life. Before I was married and settled down, I worked as a ward-maker and curse-breaker for Gringotts. Once I had children, that all changed, of course, and I decided to teach, but I learned some useful skills along the way.”

“I should say so,” Sirius replies. “Would that my own youth hadn’t been misspent.”

Louise sniffs. “Please, you’re still very young. Talk to me again when you’re fifty. Then, I might begin to think you wasted your time.”

But that reminds Sirius that he has some options once Harry goes back to school. He has no idea what he might do to occupy himself, but continuing to learn combat magics and practicing dueling seems wise.

“What are you thinking?” Remus asks later that night, after Harry’s gone to bed, and they’re sitting in the living room, finishing off the bottle of wine they’d opened. “You’ve been quiet ever since Louise left.”

“I was thinking what I might do to better take care of Harry,” Sirius admits. “Louise had some special skills and knowledge that helped, but what do I have?”

“You’re his parent, Padfoot,” Remus reminds him. “You’re doing a fine job with that.”

Sirius shrugs. “I’m thinking about joining a dueling club in Paris.”

Remus raises his eyebrows. “Really?”

“It seems like a good idea to keep my skills sharp,” Sirius replies. “I doubt that the Dementor attack will be the only threat we have to beat back.”

Remus runs a hand through his hair. “Do you expect to have to deal with Death Eaters again?”

“Well, it’s not as though they don’t know Harry’s general whereabouts now,” Sirius replies grimly. “I don’t think we’ll have to worry about it for a few years, but based on the prophecy, Voldemort and his Death Eaters will return eventually.”

Remus is silent for a long moment. “Sometimes I think you’ve seen the future.”

“I have never practiced divination, you know that,” Sirius says lightly, and it’s as close to the truth as he can come. “But I know what the prophecy said, and it’s clear that the war has merely been paused. It’s not over, Moony.”

Remus sighs. “I hate that you’re probably right about that. I don’t want Harry to face the same kinds of battles we did.”

Privately, Sirius is afraid that Harry will face worse, in spite of his own best efforts, but he won’t give voice to those fears, not yet.

Remus wouldn’t understand, and Sirius is unable to explain.

“We’ll just have to do our best,” Sirius replies. “But I do need to get back into fighting trim again.”

“A dueling club will help with that,” Remus agrees. “Perhaps I’ll go with you.”

“And maybe we should start brushing up on our defense lessons again,” Sirius says. “Perhaps it won’t be needed in the long run, but I’d rather be safe than sorry in that respect.”

Remus gives him a look. “You aren’t blaming yourself for freezing at first with the Dementors, are you?”

“I should have been able to respond much more quickly,” Sirius replies. “I’m out of practice.”

Remus snorts. “No, you’re traumatized, and there’s a difference.”

Sirius is silent, because Remus is correct about that.

“And there’s no shame in that, Padfoot,” Remus adds softly. “If you’d received a trial—“

“I may have been worse off than I was,” Sirius says bitterly. “Do you think I would have received a fair trial at that time? Everyone was so ready to believe I was a traitor, and Peter did such a good job at framing me, I would have been convicted in a heartbeat, and then I never would have received a fair shake.”

Remus makes a distressed noise. “I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Sirius replies. “I’ve accepted my role in things as well. I have a number of regrets, things I could have done differently. The fact is, Peter knew my faults very well, and he used those against me.”

“Someone would have discovered Peter was alive eventually,” Remus says encouragingly. “I believe you would have been found innocent at some point.”

Sirius is none too sure about that. He’s seen all the different ways his life could have gone, and his freedom has always been an uncertain thing.

“Perhaps,” Sirius says. “Never the less, we cannot count on Dumbledore’s help to be able to go back to England. The best we can do is to make as good of a life for Harry here as we can, and do all we can to protect him.”

Remus nods. “Have you given up on the idea of going back to England, then?”

“Not given up, but Harry’s happy here, and he’s doing well in school. He has friends,” Sirius replies. “What does England have to offer him?”

“Not much,” Remus agrees. “Well, I think you’re right. We should focus on what we have here.”

Sirius hadn’t thought that he would be content to stay in France, but maybe the distance will offer Harry a little more protection.

~~~~~

Sirius does join a dueling club after they return to Paris after the New Year. Harry’s winter holiday ends the following week, and then he goes back to school. The winter term contains harder materials, which challenges Harry considerably. He and Remus help as much as they can, and Sirius offers to hire a tutor to help.

Harry shakes his head stubbornly. “No, I’m going to get this.”

“There’s no shame in needing help,” Sirius reminds him. “Madame Barre said that you might need a bit of extra assistance, and it would be challenging.”

Harry sets his jaw. “I’m going to get this.”

Sirius sighs and gives up. He knows precisely how stubborn James _and_ Lily could be, and Harry takes after both of them. “I know you’re quite capable, Harry, but if your grades fall, I’ll be hiring a tutor. I want you to do well, but you needn’t kill yourself to do it.”

Harry manages a smile. “I know. I’ll just have to work that much harder.”

Remus clears his throat. “You could study with Lionel, you know. That would help both of you. I’m sure there are subjects that are easier for you than for him.”

“I’m better at maths,” Harry says, brightening a bit. “And at history. I like it better than Lionel does.”

“There you go,” Remus says. “Why don’t you ask Lionel to come over after school tomorrow to study?”

After that, Harry nearly always studies with some of the other children in his class after school. He’ll bring his friends home with him, or will go with them after school. Sirius feels somewhat anxious to allow Harry out of his sight, to spend time with people Sirius doesn’t know—or doesn’t know well—but agrees to it as long as he or Remus walk him home.

Studying with his friends gives Harry a little more confidence with the material he finds difficult, and when Sirius meets with Harry’s teachers mid-term, he receives glowing reports.

His maths teacher is especially complimentary. “Harry has become a real leader in the classroom, and he’s quick to help the other students who don’t understand the material as well.”

The history teacher says much the same thing, and his other teachers comment on how much Harry’s performance has improved, and how he’s a friend to everyone.

Madame Barre meets with them last. “Harry has integrated into the school very well, and I can see him growing in confidence. He’s a kind, studious boy.”

“I’m glad to hear that he’s succeeding so well,” Sirius comments. “I was a bit concerned at the beginning of term. Harry seemed to be struggling with the material.”

“The suggestion of forming a study group was very wise,” Madame Barre says. “It’s helped a number of the students as well.”

“I hoped that would be the case,” Remus says. “I know it helped me when I was at Hogwarts.”

“Harry’s building a strong group of friends, apart from Lionel, which is good for him,” Madame Barre says. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about, not as far as his schooling goes at least.”

Sirius smiles. “That’s a relief.”

When they emerge from the meeting, Harry is sitting on a bench in the hallway, waiting for them with a worried expression. “Cheer up, pup,” Sirius tells him. “Everybody speaks very highly of you, and you’re doing quite well. I’m proud of you.”

Harry breaks into a grin. “Really?”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Remus teases. “You should know that your grades have only continued to improve this term.”

“The study group really helped,” Harry admits. “Thanks, Uncle Moony.”

“It’s all you, Harry,” Remus replies. “Well done.”

Harry is clearly pleased by the praise. “Thank you.”

Sirius is glad that Harry can accept the praise with relative grace at this point. “Come on, Harry,” he says. “Let’s get something to eat. I think a celebration is in order.”

~~~~~

The rest of the term goes quite well, and Sirius is beginning to make a few friends at the dueling club. The relationships are casual, but he will occasionally go out afterwards for a glass of wine or a meal if he knows that Remus is away, or Harry is with friends.

It’s a little bit strange. Sirius hasn’t had many friends outside the Marauders. He’s not sure he truly had friends inside the Order, given how many were willing to think him a traitor. But he and Remus frequently have dinner with Diana and Denis, and Sirius has his dueling club, and Remus has his work.

Sirius is beginning to put down roots in France, deep enough that it will be hard to leave if the chance ever arises.

The youth Quidditch league starts in April, and both Lionel and Harry sign up, which brings Harry into close contact with even more young wizards and witches. Watching Harry practice, there’s no distinction between him and the other children, other than a certain degree of skill.

Harry easily wins the role of Seeker for his team, a group of boys and girls between the ages of 8 and 10, whereas Lionel manages to get a spot as a Beater.

Their team plays several Quidditch games against others in the league, with games taking place on most Saturdays through the end of June.

Harry’s team wins about half of their games, but Sirius makes sure that Harry keeps focusing on having fun, and not on winning. He knows the competition at Hogwarts could get quite fierce, and there will be time for that sort of thing later. Sirius just wants Harry to focus on having fun, and getting a sense of working in a team.

By the time they’re ready to head back to the farmhouse for the rest of the summer, Harry’s tanned and full of high spirits. He’s already asked to have a birthday party in Paris to allow all of his local friends to attend, and Sirius grants the request with pleasure.

Harry is blossoming before Sirius’ eyes into a confident, bright, and happy young man. James and Lily would be incredibly proud and pleased.

They return to the farmhouse at the beginning of July, well ahead of Bastille Day. Sirius isn’t fond of crowds for a variety of reasons, mostly because he doesn’t feel secure in them, and thinks that it would be all too easy for someone to try to snatch Harry in the crush. They can have their own quiet celebration at home if Harry wants to celebrate the independence of his adopted country.

Granted, Harry has continued to practice wandless magic, and while he can’t be called proficient, he has good instincts. If Harry is scared or threatened, or if someone he cares about is threatened, he has tools in his arsenal to respond other than accidental magic.

Some might call that reckless, but Sirius knows that Harry will need those skills eventually. Sirius views his role as that of a protector, but he also knows he must prepare him as well.

There’s a morning when he wakes up and feels the heat of Remus’ body next to him, hears the birds chirping outside the window, the summer sun streaming into the room, and he realizes that it’s been over a year since he retrieved Harry.

He hasn’t had a nightmare in weeks now, and he’s content.

Remus stirs slightly. “What time is it?”

“Early yet,” Sirius replies. “Go back to sleep if you like. You got in late last night.”

Remus grunts and pulls the pillow over his head.

Sirius swallows a chuckle. Remus is still working for the bookstore as a buyer and courier, and so usually spends the week in Paris, coming to the farmhouse on the weekends. He’d shown up at nearly midnight, stumbling up to bed, and Sirius could see how tired he was.

Harry’s already awake and munching on one of the pastries they bought yesterday when they’d done the shopping for the weekend.

“How are you, pup? Sleep okay?” Sirius asks, starting the kettle.

Harry nods happily. “Do you think we could go flying today?”

“It’s a beautiful day for it,” Sirius agrees. “I certainly don’t mind.”

Harry grins, and Sirius ruffles his hair. “Did Uncle Moony make it home okay?” Harry asks.

“Sure did, but late, so I thought we’d let him sleep this morning,” Sirius replies. He hesitates, then says, “Do you know what I realized this morning?”

“What’s that?” Harry asks, his mouth full.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Sirius admonishes gently. “And I realized we’ve been together for over a year now.”

Harry cocks his head to the side, and then smiles brightly. “I’m glad you came and got me.”

“Me, too, Pronglet,” Sirius replies. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life, but rescuing you wasn’t one of them.”

“Even though you might get in trouble for it someday?” Harry asks.

“Even then,” Sirius confirms. He pours hot water over coffee grounds in the French press, and snags his own pastry. “Do you have anything for school that you ought to be working on?”

Harry shrugs. “I have some stuff I could do, but maybe after flying?”

The weather promises to be hot, and to get hotter in the afternoon. “Flying this morning, then lunch, then schoolwork.”

Harry nods agreeably, and Sirius thinks he might doing well with the parenting thing.

Then Sirius feels someone crossing the wards, and it’s not someone who has been here before. Keeping his voice calm, Sirius says, “Harry, please go upstairs and wake up Remus. I want you to stay up there with Tibere.”

“What is it?” Harry asks fearfully.

“I don’t know. The wards just alerted me to a visitor, someone who hasn’t been here before,” Sirius replies. “I don’t sense any ill intent, but I would rather not take any chances.”

Harry scrambles upstairs, Tibere at his heels, and Sirius draws his wand and steps out onto the front porch.

He hopes that Remus will understand his unspoken request to stay upstairs with Harry, and to have Harry use his portkey if necessary.

The wards would have pushed back anyone with ill-intent for Harry, but that leaves some leeway.

Sirius somehow isn’t surprised to see Dumbledore strolling up the path. He’s more surprised that it’s taken him this long, and that he’s come alone.

Then again, Dumbledore probably doesn’t see Sirius as a threat.

Sirius stays silent as Dumbledore approaches, stopping a few feet away from the porch. He keeps his silence as Dumbledore stands there, apparently waiting for an invitation.

“You’re looking well, Sirius,” Dumbledore says.

“I’m surprised you made it past the wards,” Sirius admits.

Dumbledore smiles gently, his eyes twinkling. “I bear you no ill will.”

“The wards aren’t there to protect me; they’re meant to protect Harry,” Sirius replies.

“I’m no threat to Harry,” Dumbledore protests.

Sirius raises his eyebrows. “Harry might disagree. He had no desire to return to live with his relatives, and you were pretty insistent on it.”

Dumbledore coughs. “Yes, well, that was for his own good, although with the wards at the Dursleys’ home having collapsed, that is no longer an option.”

“Then what are you doing here?” Sirius asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I’m just checking in,” Dumbledore replies. “I’d like to see how Harry’s doing for myself.”

Sirius doesn’t want to allow Dumbledore inside, not after their last meeting, and not after Dumbledore’s insistence that Harry would be better off with the Muggles who hated him.

Still, he had reached out for Dumbledore’s help to smooth the way for Sirius, Remus, and Harry to return to England if they choose to do so.

“Come in then,” Sirius replies, with as much grace as he can muster.

He wonders what Dumbledore sees as he looks around with interest. Does he see the faded paint and scuffed wooden floors, or can he see the books and toys Harry’s left scattered about, the remains of a pastry on a plate, the bits of breakfast left over?

Or maybe he sees Tibere sitting on the bottom stair, glaring at Dumbledore out of his one good eye.

“I see you have a Kneazle,” Dumbledore says cheerfully, apparently not minding the glare.

“I’m not sure if he adopted Harry, or if it was vice versa,” Sirius replies. “Harry! There’s someone here to see you.”

He’s not interested in allowing Dumbledore to get very far into their house. He would prefer Dumbledore see that Harry is doing just fine, and then leave quickly.

Remus follows Harry downstairs, his eyebrows going up when he sees Dumbledore. He glances at Sirius, his expression a bit alarmed, and Sirius shrugs.

“Harry, this is Albus Dumbledore,” Sirius says in English, a subtle prompt not to speak in French. “He’s the headmaster at Hogwarts, and he knew your parents.”

Harry holds out a hand politely. “It’s nice to meet you, sir.” Harry has, indeed, picked up a slight French accent. Sirius wonders what the wizarding public in England will think of that.

“How are you, Harry?” Dumbledore asks, shaking Harry’s hand with grave courtesy.

“I’m quite well,” Harry says with a puzzled air. “Have you come for a visit, sir?”

“I have come to see you, and to make sure you’re doing well,” Dumbledore replies.

That comment doesn’t seem to go over well with Harry. “Why?” he asks bluntly.

Sirius decides to let this confrontation play out, and doesn’t make any attempt to interfere.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Dumbledore asks.

Harry gives him a look that’s far too bitter for a boy his age. “You never did before, or you would have known how the Dursleys treated me, and you would have known I’d be better off with my godfather.”

Dumbledore’s eyes lose a bit of their twinkle. “My dear boy, there were other reasons for you to remain with your Muggle relatives, and at the time, your godfather was not an option.”

Harry crosses his arms. “But you didn’t make sure Sirius got a fair trial, or any trial at all, and you tried to make sure he wouldn’t get to keep me. You were the one who made those comments at the ICW.”

Sirius knows that he hadn’t identified Dumbledore as the one asking those questions, and he glances at Remus, who winces. So, Remus had known and identified the one asking, probably when Harry asked.

“I still thought you would be safer with your relatives, Harry,” Dumbledore replies. “There are a great many things you don’t know about the situation, and that your godfather didn’t know.”

“Then you should have told him what he needed to know,” Harry insisted.

Sirius can’t quite believe that Harry is going toe-to-toe with Dumbledore and is holding his own. He’s certainly not intimidated.

“I tried,” Dumbledore said patiently. “But he disagreed with my methods.”

Harry shrugs. “I trust Sirius. He takes care of me, and if there are chores to do, we do them together. He doesn’t make me do all of them by myself. I like my school, and my friends, and I play Quidditch in a league, and I have Tibere.”

“Then I see you’re quite settled,” Dumbledore replies, apparently rallying. “But what about when it comes time to go to school? Wouldn’t you like to go to Hogwarts?”

Harry considers the idea. “My parents went there, and Sirius and Remus went there, too. It sounds like a lot of fun. But a lot of my friends are going to Beauxbatons, and I think that might be fun. I like France.”

Sirius is watching for it, and so he sees the faint shock flitter over Dumbledore’s face. “Sirius, surely you aren’t considering sending Harry somewhere other than Hogwarts.”

Sirius is enjoying his shock. “I think that’s up to Harry in the long run. If Hogwarts isn’t the best school for him, then we’ll obviously be sending him elsewhere.”

Dumbledore appears to gather himself. “I see. And what would you need in order to send Harry to Hogwarts?”

Sirius would prefer to keep Harry’s options open, and he already knows what he would need at the bare minimum. “The British Ministry would need to issue a statement, declaring me innocent in accordance with the findings of the ICW to start. I would need to have my guardianship stand unchallenged. And when it’s time to send Harry to school, I would need to know exactly who would be teaching him. You see, Harry has expressed some interest in potions-making, and is demonstrating some early skill as well. I would hate to see that snuffed out.”

Sirius knows that he doesn’t need to spell it out any further than that, but he’s not willing to put Harry into the hands of Severus Snape.

“That’s quite a list of demands,” Dumbledore comments. “I’m not sure that is achievable.”

“Then I suppose Hogwarts will not be an appropriate school for Harry,” Sirius says evenly. “Which is disappointing, but maybe it’s for the best. As you said, Harry is very settled here.”

Sirius can see temper flare briefly in Dumbledore’s eyes, but he can’t very well express it in front of Harry. And Sirius knows that he has the high ground right now.

Dumbledore has seen for himself that Harry and safe and happy, and very much loyal to Sirius. He knows under what conditions Sirius will allow Harry to attend Hogwarts.

Dumbledore smiles, although his eyes aren’t twinkling quite as much. “I will see what I can do. But perhaps I might visit on occasion?”

Sirius glances at Harry. “Harry? I think it’s up to you.”

Harry considers it for a moment, clearly mulling it over. “I suppose that might be all right, but you should probably write first, rather than just showing up. It’s not very polite.”

Remus coughs, and Sirius barely manages to swallow his own laughter.

“You’re quite right, Mr. Potter,” Dumbledore admits. “I should have called ahead first. My apologies if I caused any alarm.”

“It’s all right,” Harry says magnanimously. “Maybe you just forgot.”

Harry says it in such a way that Sirius knows Harry’s taking a shot at Dumbledore’s age, and he gives Harry a stern look.

Harry looks entirely innocent.

The twinkle has returned to Dumbledore’s eyes. “Quite. I’m sure that was it. It was a pleasure to officially meet you, Harry.”

Harry shakes Dumbledore’s hand again. “Nice to meet you, too,” Harry says. “Can I go flying now?”

“Go on,” Sirius replies. “I’ll join you shortly.”

Once Harry has run outside, Tibere on his heels, Sirius turns back to Dumbledore. “Are you satisfied?”

“Quite,” Dumbledore admits. “He’s quite spirited.”

“More so as time goes by,” Sirius replies. “I hate to be abrupt, but we had plans for the day.”

“Which I quite rudely interrupted,” Dumbledore admits. “Forgive me. I wanted to see for myself that Harry was safe and healthy. And yes, I should have done so before, but I believed that his relatives would look after him.”

Sirius shakes his head. “You should know by now that relatives aren’t always the right answer to the question.”

Some unnamed emotion flickers over Dumbledore’s face, and he nods. “Yes, I do realize that. For what it’s worth, Sirius, I _am_ sorry that you spent so long in Azkaban unjustly.”

Sirius wants to tell him that it’s not worth much, but he swallows the bitter response. “Thank you.”

Dumbledore nods to Remus. “Good to see you as well, Remus.”

“Headmaster,” Remus replies evenly.

Seeing that he’s not going to get anything more out of either of them, Dumbledore inclines his head and sees himself out, apparating once he reaches the bottom of the stairs.

Remus puts his hands on Sirius’ shoulders and squeezes. “Well, it seems we’ll be staying in France for a while.”

“You don’t mind, do you, Moony?” Sirius asks.

“Of course not,” Remus replies. “We have a good life here, and Harry is happy.”

Sirius turns and kisses him lightly. “Thank you for being here. I wouldn’t want to do this without you.”

“The remaining Marauders have to stick together,” Remus replies. “And who knows? Dumbledore might do what you asked if it means that Harry would attend Hogwarts.”

Sirius shrugs. “He might, but I’m not sure I care. I’m quite happy here.”

“You have flying to do,” Remus reminds him.

With one more quick kiss, Sirius heads outside, grabbing his broom, and taking to the skies. Harry lets out a whoop when he sees Sirius, and Sirius reaches into his pocket for the practice Snitch.

“Bet you I catch it first!” Harry yells.

“We’ll see about that, pup,” Sirius calls back, and then releases it.

And under a bright blue sky with Harry’s laughter echoing around him, and Remus watching from the porch below with a cup of tea in hand, Sirius doesn’t think he could be happier.


End file.
